Particle Collisions
by joyousnerd
Summary: Bella has given up on love, choosing to be content with her quiet, albeit boring life. She never imagined how much that life would change when Edward Masen moved into the classroom across the hall.  Watch out world, there's a new nerd in town!
1. Catalyst

Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you to ajr818 and Melissa at Project Team Beta for their help with this story.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Catalyst: A substance that lowers the activation energy of a chemical reaction by forming a temporary association with the reacting molecules; as a result, the rate of the reaction is accelerated. Enzymes are catalysts._

"Ohmygosh, Bella! Did you hear?"

"Did I hear what?" I turned from where I was sorting temperature probes from dissolved gas probes to see Alice Brandon, a Chemistry teacher and my closest friend in the building, standing in my doorway, bouncing up and down.

"Alice, what the hell did you do to your hair?"

"Isn't it awesome? I was totally scared it would be ridiculous, but I think it turned out pretty well, huh?"

"It's um ... it's something. It suits you, I guess. Is that ... is it pink?"

Yesterday, Alice had looked like a reasonably normal woman. Well, as normal as someone with a supergenius IQ and the mannerisms of a valley girl-slash-cheerleader on methamphetamines could be. Now her formerly longish brown hair was cut short and had been dyed dark red with pink highlights throughout.

"Yep! We did three different highlight shades in addition to the red. It cost me more than my car payment, but it's super fun, right? What's the use of having money if you can't spend it on fun stuff?"

"I guess," was all I could reply, while she took a breath and continued.

"I'm so glad you like it! We should totally get yours done. I think you would be fantastic as a blonde, or you could go red, too! We could be like twins!"

"Alice, was there something you needed? I kinda need to get ready for class ..."

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot!" She turned and closed the classroom door behind her. "You know Mr. Banner?"

"Alice," I replied, trying to conceal my impatience, "of course I know him. He's been across the hall from me for the past five years."

"Oh yeah! Anyway ..." She lowered her voice and looked around the room as if someone could have snuck in through the closed door in the last thirty seconds. "He's like ... gone." She opened her eyes wide and nodded dramatically.

"What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean like, _gone_, gone."

"Did he die? Retire? Was he abducted by aliens?" It was very unusual for a teacher to leave in the middle of the year, and I was surprised by the news. I was even more surprised to hear it about Mr. Banner. He was an institution. He'd been teaching science since before most of the current faculty was born, and he hadn't changed his technique in most of that time. He was still using the same handwritten laminated lesson plans, the same overhead notes, and the same scowl he had employed for the past forty years or so. He refused to use an LCD projector or any instructional technique other than lecture. The computer in his room was rarely switched on, and the faculty meeting in which he'd delivered a fifteen-minute diatribe about how online gradebooks signaled the doom of public education was the stuff of legends. He wasn't popular, or pleasant for that matter, but his class was practically a rite of passage.

"Ohmygosh! That's the most unbelievable part! Apparently Friday afternoon after school, Dr. Cullen was walking through the building, and he heard noise coming from the auditorium. He went in, and Banner was up on stage with a microphone singing at the top of his lungs ... in his underwear!"

"Whaaa?"

"Yep. Then when Carlisle tried to get him off the stage, Banner started calling him Simon and rambling about how no one was going to steal his dream! Carlisle finally talked him down off the stage, but only after he told him that Paula wanted to see him in her dressing room to talk about his future." Alice giggled. "Can you imagine old Banner up there in his boxers, belting out 'I Will Survive'?"

I shuddered at the image. "I don't want to think about it. How on earth do you know all this, anyway?"

"Oh, that's the best part!" she squealed. "Rose was still in her room, and Carlisle asked her to sit with him while he went to call Mrs. Banner. Did you know there was a Mrs. Banner? I didn't. Anyway, Rose said he kept calling her Paula and asking where Randy and Simon had gone. Then he asked her if she wanted his help choreographing her next video!" She shrieked with laughter loud enough to make me want to cover my ears.

We were giggling together when we heard the unmistakable sound of a key sliding in the door lock and looked up to see our principal opening the door. We composed ourselves quickly.

"Ladies," he said, greeting us with a polite nod.

"Morning, Carlisle," I replied.

"Dr. Cullen," Alice squeaked. She was still new enough to be a little cowed by him. He had intimidated us all at first; I had barely spoken for the first several minutes of my interview with him, overwhelmed by his good looks and charisma. He was arguably the best-looking man I had ever seen in real life. The students called him Dr. McHottie behind his back. He was also one of the kindest men I had ever met and an outstanding educator. I felt honored to have the opportunity to work with him.

"Ms. Brandon, may I have a moment with Ms. Swan?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Mc- Dr. Cullen!" Alice blushed scarlet, and Dr. Cullen managed to control his expression, except for a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Have a good day, Ms. Brandon," he said, patting her shoulder as she passed.

"You, too!" she managed to squeak out before sprinting out of the room. Dr. Cullen pulled the door closed behind her and gestured to a seat at one of the tall lab tables in my room.

"Have a seat, Bella."

I sat down on one of the stools, and he did the same, placing himself across the table from me. He grimaced slightly.

"I always forget how uncomfortable these things are," he said, shifting around a bit.

"I know," I replied. "The kids don't seem to mind them, though."

"That's good." He smiled graciously across the table at me, and I could not help but smile back.

"Bella, we have a bit of an issue, and I think you may be the best candidate to help us out. Mr. Banner has decided to take early retirement, starting immediately."

"Oh? That's, um, unexpected …" I tried my best to stifle my laughter, but I failed completely and had to fake a coughing fit to mask it instead. Dr. Cullen graciously ignored me, but I again spotted that twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, well, it was a, ah, sudden decision. There will be a substitute covering his classes this week. She will be using his emergency lesson plan today, but beyond that, we are at a bit of a loss. I trust you knew where he was in his curriculum?"

"Yes, sir, I have some idea." As department head, it was my job to keep track of the teachers in my department to make sure everyone taught the required subject material at an appropriate speed.

"Excellent." Dr. Cullen sat up straighter and rubbed his hands together. "We are fortunate that the substitute we have employed for this week is a retired math teacher and can handle a classroom. Can you work with her after school today to come up with plans for this week? I don't want his students to suffer from this, ah, incident any more than absolutely necessary."

"Of course, sir," I replied, running over my own lesson plans for the week in my head and contemplating how they could be altered to work with a substitute. "Um, sir … what's happening after this week?"

"That's a good question, Bella." He scrubbed his hands over his face, and for just a moment, I saw behind his professional demeanor and got a glimpse of the stress he was experiencing because of the situation. "It will be difficult to bring someone in at this point in the year, but I have some ideas. I am hoping to have someone qualified in place this time next week. Can I count on you to help get our new colleague up on his feet?" He gave me a rueful smile that said he was sorry to add more work to my already very full plate.

"Of course, Carlisle. I'll do everything I can. Just let me know as soon as you find someone. The sooner we can start preparing, the better."

"Will do. Thank you, Bella, for all of your help. Come and let me introduce you to the sub." He stood up, and I followed suit. We crossed into the classroom across the hall where he introduced me to Mrs. Eller, a tiny wisp of a woman with fluffy gray hair and bright blue eyes. I worried for a moment about her ability to handle the students, but after hearing that she taught math for thirty years and spent ten of those in an alternative school for students who had been removed from regular school because of discipline problems, my worries evaporated.

"I only look sweet, dear. I've taken teenaged criminals twice my size down to the ground and held them there, waiting for the deputies to come take them away. I think average high school students will be quite refreshing." She smiled as she talked, and her eyes sparkled like she was some kind of magical creature. I couldn't wait to hear about the students' reaction to her.

Just then, the warning bell rang for first period. I dashed back across the hall to my classroom to finish prepping for the day's lab, and just like that, another sprint of a day had begun.

By the end of 7th period, I was exhausted. My day had begun before six am, and despite teaching a full day, I was not nearly finished. My own plans were firmly in place, and I didn't have too much grading to do, but I had yet to come up with any lesson plans for Ms. Eller. Level I Biology would be simple; I taught the class as well, and I could easily adapt my lessons to be self-guided for the students. The problem was Mr. Banner's Environmental Science class. I had taught that class in the past, but it had been a few years ago, and I had no more than a vague idea of what he had been covering. I sighed as I looked at the clock; three-thirty already. I turned on some music and dug in for a few more hours of work. I had hoped I could leave by five. Glancing down at my to-do list, I revised that hope with another sigh. Maybe I could leave by six.

About an hour later, I was startled out of my work-induced focus by the sound of my door opening. I looked up to see who it was, expecting to see a colleague stopping by to say goodbye on their way out of the building. I was surprised to see Dr. Cullen entering the room, followed by a man I had never seen before.

He was pale, as if his skin had never seen sunlight. His body looked stretched, almost too tall and skinny. His hair was parted severely on one side, and it might have been brownish-red. I couldn't quite tell, since it looked wet due to all of the product he'd used to keep it in place. It looked like it might be curly if released from its strict gel-enforced restraints. He wore an ill-fitting white button-down with short sleeves and khaki pants that were just a bit too short; I caught a glimpse of white socks between the hem and the tops of his black dress shoes. I realized after a moment that the pattern on his tie was little cartoon drawings of molecules. He didn't seem to notice my perusal; instead, his attention appeared to be focused on examining my classroom.

Honestly, he was kind of a mess.

Carlisle cleared his throat. "Bella, everything has worked out much more quickly than I could have anticipated. You said the sooner the better, right?" He smiled at me hopefully, and I nodded in response. He cleared his throat again and raised his eyebrows at the other man until his attention was directed our way.

"This is Bella Swan, the head of our science department. Bella, I would like you to meet the newest addition to our faculty. This is Edward Masen.

The man gazed at me through narrowed eyes before extending a hand for me to shake. I took it, and his skin was surprisingly soft.

"Edward, it's nice to meet you. Welcome to King Phillip Academy. We have great spaghetti," I said with a smile.

Carlisle chuckled at my joke, but Edward's eyes narrowed even further, and he removed his hand from my grasp. He glanced over at Carlisle before looking back at me with a scowl.

"Ms. Swan, it is nice to make your acquaintance. You may call me Dr. Masen."

This was not going to be pretty.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

I hope you enjoyed my new little story! A plot bunny attacked me and this was the result. My plan for Particle Collisions is shorter chapters and more frequent updates – I am shooting for once a week.

The King Phillip Academy spaghetti joke is based on a mnemonic device used to remember the order of classification in biology – Did King Phillip Come Over For Good Spaghetti?

Click the little button and tell me what you think!


	2. Dominance Hierarchy

Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks to mcc101180 and BelleDuJour at Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Dominance Hierarchy: A linear "pecking order" of animals within a population, where position dictates characteristic social behaviors. Often established through physical confrontation between members of a group._

I arrived home at six thirty-seven, exactly twelve hours and seven minutes after leaving that morning. I put the car in park and sat in my car for a few minutes, too drained to move. The flight of stairs to my second-floor apartment suddenly seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. I wondered if I would freeze to death if I just slept in my car. Given that it was early October and still in the mid-seventies during the day, my guess was probably not.

I looked over at the bag sitting on the seat next to me. I knew what it contained –three class sets of labs, three class sets of essays, and six sets of quizzes. Just the thought of hauling it up the stairs made me want to cry. The bag was going to have to stay in the car. It wasn't until I felt my stomach rumble that I rallied my remaining energy and exited the car, then made my way up to my front door.

I felt better as soon as I entered. The room was small and cluttered and crazy, but it was home, and it was all mine.

"Hi, Rufus, how ya doing?" I greeted my darling baby as I crossed through the room on a direct line for the kitchen. I was thankful I had leftovers from the weekend – no need to cook, only heat. Two and a half minutes later, I was on my way to my couch with a hot bowl in my hands.

"Rufus, today sucked," I told my sweet boy through a mouthful of rice noodles. "The Gibson twins were in rare form and wouldn't stop talking no matter what I did. One of my advanced students somehow managed to blow up a beaker, and the server was down for half the day and I couldn't get to half my stuff." I greedily took another bite and waited to swallow before I continued.

"Mr. Banner finally fell off his rocker, so he's gone. That's not so bad, I guess, although I'll kind of miss the old grouch. It was always funny to hear whatever critical comment he had for me every day." I arranged my face into an imitation of Mr. Banner's perpetual scowl and began talking in a deep voice. "'Miss Swan, that skirt is entirely too short. In my day, no decent woman would even consider showing her knees in public!' 'Miss Swan, I am baffled by your request that we email you our lesson plans. Clearly it is impossible to email lesson plans, since they are written on paper.' 'Miss Swan, the noise level coming from your classroom last period was utterly unacceptable. How you expect any child to learn in that kind of chaos is incomprehensible.'"

I picked up my bowl and fork and took another bite. "You know, Rufus, maybe I won't miss him." Rufus looked at me sympathetically, nodding his head.

"Carlisle already found a replacement, so that's good, but he seems like a real piece of work. 'You may call me Doctor Masen,'" I mimicked, rolling my eyes. "So what if he has a Ph.D in Biochemistry? Okay, yes, impressive, but that doesn't give him permission to talk down to the rest of us poor slobs who just have a sad little Master's Degree. I'm a good teacher, dammit!" I punctuated the end of my diatribe by popping the last bite of my dinner into my mouth and dropping the fork dramatically back in the bowl. I turned on my television and began surfing through the channels, finally setting on an episode of _Mythbusters._ I needed some Rufus snuggle-time.

Carefully opening the top of the glass-enclosed habitat that took up half of the wall, I reached in and wiggled my fingers. He slid quickly down off the branch where he'd been perched and climbed up my arm, coiling himself around as he went. Once most of his body was twined around me, I raised my arm and gingerly replaced the lid, then returned to my seat on the couch.

Rufus had always loved to climb; ever since the day I'd brought him home, a tiny thing of only about six inches. When I'd introduced him to his new home, the first thing he'd done was climb the largest piece of wood and curl himself around the topmost branch. In those days, he would get lost in the expansive space, and if he wanted to hide, he could do so quite effectively. Now, at nearly six feet long, he was always easy to find.

He climbed up my arm and down around my other shoulder, down under my arm and across my back, before returning to slide past my neck. I loved the feeling of his smooth scales and the bunch and release of his muscles as he moved. Cuddling with Rufus was like getting a corn-snake massage.

"If today was any kind of indication, I don't know if I am going to be able to work with that guy, Rufy," I said, nabbing him as he slithered onto the couch and draping him back over my shoulder. "He might be the most arrogant person I've ever met." I lapsed into silence and watched _Mythbusters_ for a while, but before too long, the thought of all that ungraded work down in my car started to nudge at my consciousness. With a groan, I reached forward and flipped open the laptop that lay on the coffee table in front of me. I readjusted Rufus, logged into my school server, and began outlining plans for Dr. McScowlypants.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

I had to feed Rufus the next morning, and the mouse was less than cooperative, so by the time I arrived at school, I was late and nursing a bite on my right ring finger. Late for me was still early compared to most of the faculty, so I was surprised when I entered my classroom at seven-fifteen to find Dr. Edward Masen sitting at my desk waiting for me. I was immediately irritated; no one gets to sit at my desk but me. I squelched my initial impulse to snap at him; instead I nodded and edged behind him to put my purse in my desk drawer. I hoped he would get the hint and move.

He didn't.

I reached around him and pressed the power button on my laptop, bringing it to life. When the login screen came up, he moved slightly to one side to allow me to type in my username and password, but he still didn't get up. The position brought us into uncomfortable proximity, and while I stood back to wait for the computer to finish starting up, I glared at the back of his annoying overgelled head.

He finally broke the silence. "What are you doing in class today?"

I saw my chance. "I'll be happy to pull my plans up on the computer for you to have a look."

"That will be acceptable." Instead of vacating my desk, he slid closer to the wall, freeing the space in front of the computer.

I inhaled deeply. "I'll need to sit down."

He addressed me without turning. "There's plenty of space."

Clearly a more direct approach was necessary. "I can't sit when you're in my chair."

"That's ridiculous," he replied, still not looking at me. "There are a multitude of chairs in this classroom."

"Yes, there are," I said, gritting my teeth in a frantic attempt to maintain my professional demeanor, "and you are welcome to use any of them. However, that one is mine. I would thank you to vacate it."

"Actually, I believe this chair is the property of the school system, therefore as an employee of equal standing with you, I have as much claim upon it as you do. It is by far the best quality chair in the room, so I will remain here."

"Actually, Mr. Masen-"

"Dr. Masen," he corrected, finally looking my way with an arrogant smirk.

"Mister Masen," I reiterated, biting off each consonant as if I were Rufus after a mouse, "first of all, we are not 'employees of equal standing.' I have ten years' seniority over you, and I am head of your department. Secondly, I bought that chair, not the school system. It is, in fact, _my_ chair. It might as well have 'property of Isabella Swan' tattooed on its ass. So once again, I would thank you to get the hell out of my chair."

"I suppose if it is that important to you I can oblige this time," he said, neither his demeanor or arrogant smirk apparently affected by my outburst.

"Thank you," I ground out between gritted teeth.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Swan."

I began taking deep breaths. It would be unwise to punch my new colleague in the face on his first full day, even if he totally deserved it.

_Maybe__he__'__s__just__nervous_, I thought. _Maybe__he__handles__nervousness__by__being__obnoxious.__Maybe__he__thinks__he__'__s__funny.__He__is__a__scientist,__after__all;__as__a__group,__we__are__not__known__for__our__sense__of__humor.__Or__our__social__skills,__for__that__matter._

I decided to give him a second chance. We would be working together for the foreseeable future, after all, and life was always easier when you got along with your co-workers.

Edward had plenty of subject area knowledge - PhD and all - but no teaching experience, not even as a TA in graduate school. Since Mrs. Eller had already been asked to sub for the week, Carlisle wanted Edward to spend that time preparing and observing other teachers. We had agreed that he would spend the day in my classroom, and then we would work out a schedule for him. As of yet, he not only had no real idea how to prepare, he also had no idea even what he was preparing for.

I pulled up my lesson plans for the week and printed a copy for Edward. We had a department printer that wasn't in my classroom, and I thought about asking him to go get the copies but decided that a moment away from him would be a good idea. I could always take a detour to say hi to Alice.

After grabbing the sheets from the printer in the workroom, I went down the hall toward the chemistry lab. I stepped in and inhaled the comforting fragrance: hydrochloric acid, sodium hydroxide, and just the slightest hint of propane. Labs always smelled like home to me.

Alice was flitting around the room. I looked around at the equipment she was setting up.

"Titration lab?"

"Yep!" she replied with a smile.

"What's your indicator?"

"Phenolphthalein. I had planned to use bromothymol blue, but this morning I discovered I was almost out and I don't really have time to make more, so phenolphthalein it is. That's okay, right? I mean, it was in the stockroom when I came in last year, and I know you use it for that weirdo communicable disease lab you do, so I figured it would be fine to use for titrations. I can make more if you need it for something, or I suppose I could make some more bromothymol blue if I really need to-"

"Alice," I interrupted, laughing. "Breathe. You can use anything you want. If we are almost out, put it on the supply list in the workroom. We order once a month."

"Oh, okay." She pushed her bangs back out of her face and smiled at me. "How are you?"

"I'm...I might have to kill him, Alice."

"Who?"

"_Doctor_ Edward Masen."

"Oh." Alice giggled. I saw him in your room earlier. He looks, um...interesting."

"Interesting, my ass. He has all the personality of a piece of chalk, and honestly, the chalk has more charm. And now I have to go back and try to teach him how to teach."

"I'm sorry, Bella. Can you at least stick him in someone else's classroom for a couple of days?"

"That's the plan. He can observe me today and then rotate for the rest of the week. I hope you're ready to be observed tomorrow."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I didn't mean put him in _my_ classroom, you hag."

"Sorry, can't be helped. Speaking of things that can't be helped, I have to get back to Dr. Chalky. Enjoy titrating."

"Will do. Bee tee dubya, you're coming out to dinner with Jazzy and me tonight."

"Alice, this isn't a good time. I have extra work to do, and-"

"It's just dinner, Bella. I'm not asking you to run a nuclease assay or something."

"Alright, I guess. Just you and Jasper?"

"Well..."

"Alice." I sighed. "Is this another setup?"

"No," she replied, not meeting my eyes. "It's not a setup; it's just friends having a meal."

"No."

"Come on, Bella. It's one dinner. If not for you, do it for Rosalie."

I squinted at her. "What does Rose have to do with anything?"

"Jazzy thinks he can get Emmett to come too, and we both thought it would be more comfortable if it were a group thing. You know how shy Rose is."

I took a deep breath and blew it out. "Fine. I'll go. One dinner, and I am not interested in whoever it is."

"But, Bella, you never know-"

"Not. Interested."

She sighed, an indication that she had given up the battle, for the moment at least. "Alright. Six o'clock? I'll text you the address."

I nodded and headed back, wondering if Doctor Smartypants had spent the time plotting a hostile takeover of my classroom, or maybe hacked my computer and absconded with all my materials.

When I returned, I found him perched in exactly the same place he'd been when I left, perusing one of the student textbooks.

"This material is shamefully simplified," he observed.

"Yes, well," I replied, handing him my lesson plans, "it's an introductory class. It has to be."

"But in its simplification, it is inaccurate!" He pointed at a diagram of photosynthesis.

"Edward-"

"Doctor Masen," he corrected.

I rolled my eyes so far back I was pretty sure I caught a glimpse of my brain. "Doctor Masen, I will be happy to discuss the merits and shortcomings of our curriculum with you at a later time, but at the moment, I need to get set up for class. How about you just read the lesson plans, alright?"

He did not reply; he just stared at me for a moment before he dropped his eyes to the page before him. I moved around the classroom, turning on my LCD projector, booting up the connected computer and opening the PowerPoint I planned to use that day, double-checking my handouts, and making sure all of the models I needed for demonstrations were in place. After everything was ready, I returned to where he sat.

"Do you have any questions?" I asked, praying that he would not.

"No, this seems reasonably simple."

"Are you ready? Are you nervous or anything?"

He turned to look at me and raised one eyebrow. "Ms. Swan, all you do is explain scientific concepts, oversimplified to the point of inanity, to a captive audience of adolescents who then regurgitate information onto State-approved examinations which are designed to test only the minimum mastery of said oversimplified concepts. I do not believe that this job will pose any sort of challenge to someone with my superior intelligence and education." He then turned and resumed staring toward the front of the classroom.

I suppressed the urge to smack him; I hoped that got easier with practice. It was considerably more difficult to suppress the urge to laugh. Once he actually started teaching, this guy wasn't just going to crash and burn: he was going to melt down like Chernobyl, and I was going to have a front row seat for all the action. I could hardly wait.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

The response to this story has been great! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!

Click the little button and let me know what you think!

Rec of the week - go check out WhatsMyNomDePlume. Seriously, everything I have read of hers is amazing.


	3. Null Hypothesis

Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Many thanks to Mel and Melissa at Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Null hypothesis - In statistical analysis, a hypothesis proposing that there is no statistically significant difference between the observed results of an experiment and the expected results._

At precisely five minutes before six, I pulled up in front of an unfamiliar restaurant. The sign depicted a cartoon plate and spoon drawn as if they were running off the sign, and the text underneath read "Forks."

Only Alice would choose to take us all to a restaurant called Forks.

I sat there for a few minutes and pondered the possible consequences of just leaving. No one would be any the wiser if I turned around and went back home, then sent a text claiming a migraine. I didn't know if I had it in me to deal with another one of Alice's "hopes."

Yep, that was what she called the never-ending parade of men she insisted on trying to pair me with. Every time I protested being set up, she told me they weren't just men, they were "hopes," and I surely didn't want to lose hope, did I? Then she would grin at me and flash her big comic book eyes, and I would give in again.

Alice had no clue what it was like to be thirty-two and perpetually single. She met the love of her life over a Bunsen burner during her junior year of undergrad. She and Jasper were lab partners in Physical Chemistry and very rapidly discovered they had ... physical chemistry. The rest was history.

I got tired of dating a long time ago. I wasn't interested. Rufus and I had a good thing going; he was quite snuggly, after all. I had an excellent mechanic, and I could take out my own trash. I was set.

There were other things I could take care of on my own as well, thank-you-very-much.

I had decided to go home and ask for forgiveness tomorrow when a car pulled up beside me, and Jasper, Alices husband, unfolded his long body from behind the wheel.

Well, crap.

Alice came bouncing around my car and opened my door. The first sound I heard was her ear-piercing squeal, which I assumed was some sort of greeting.

"Alice, I'm not a dog. I can't hear that pitch."

"Shut up, you," she retaliated with a giggle. "I'm so glad you came! This is going to be so much fun!" After taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and prayed that perhaps a meteor would strike the parking lot in the next five seconds. I waited the requisite five seconds and looked to the sky hopefully.

No luck. Damn.

Instead of a meteor, Jasper's handsome features appeared in my line of sight.

"How goes it, Swan? Turn any students blue lately?" He grinned and I felt my face flush.

"That was just the one time," I protested, "and I told the kids not to touch the silver nitrate."

Jasper laughed. "You know, Swan, if you came and worked in the private sector with me, you wouldn't have to worry about such things. You could turn the interns blue all day long if you wanted."

"But who would corrupt our youth?" I asked, returning his smile.

He pretended to ponder my question for a moment. "You have a point," he said, stroking his chin, "plus, I need you to chaperone Tiny over there."

"Standing right here!" Alice protested, glaring over at the two of us. She was almost as tall as her 6'1" husband and hated being teased about it. "I do _not_ need a chaperone!"

I laughed at her indignant face. "Alice, seven boys asked you to the prom last year. _Seven._"

"So? I handled it, didn't I? Besides, how many boys asked you to the prom last year?"

"None. They've all met Rufus. They know better." We'd reached the entrance, and Jasper opened the door for the two of us. The inside was eclectic, with brightly colored tablecloths, big splashy painting on the walls, and funky light fixtures. The décor elements combined to create an elegant atmosphere without being stuffy. Alice immediately resumed squealing.

"Ooh, yay, everyone else is here already!" She turned to face me, suddenly serious. "Bella, you have to _promise_ to be nice."

"Wah, Miss Alice," I said, in a truly terrible fake southern drawl, "whatevah do you mean? Ah am always nahce!"

She scowled. "I'm serious, Bella. No fair trying to scare him off with snake stories, no dissecting your dinner, no pig latin, and above all" - she paused for emphasis" - no describing _communicable__diseases.__" _ Her last words came out in a hiss.

I smiled innocently. "Alright, Alice, I'll -"

"And no fungus!" she interrupted.

"Fine!' I said, irritated. "I know how to act in public, Alice. I promise I won't bite my toenails at the table either."

Jasper began to laugh. "That night was pretty epic. Do you remember how fast that guy ran for the door?"

"Don't encourage her, Jazzy." Alice grabbed her husband's hand and led him toward the table where the other three members of our party waited.

I slid into a chair next to Rose and greeted her warmly, but she barely managed to smile back. She looked like she might throw up. I wasn't surprised; it was all because of the man seated across the table from her.

Rosalie Hale taught math at KPA. She was pretty, with dreamy big blue eyes and blonde hair that was just a little bit frizzy. She was also usually covered in chalk, but none of us held that against her. In front of a room full of calculus students, she was a complete badass. Take her to a party and she could usually manage to eke out some sort of conversation. Put her in the same room with Emmett Brandon and she lost the ability to speak.

Emmett was Jasper's older brother, but you would never guess it if you met them. They were as opposite as could be. Jasper was tall and skinny; Emmett was barely taller than me, and every part of him was broad and solid. Jasper once said that he was a line while Emmett was a plane, and I had to agree. Where Jasper was soft spoken and easygoing, Emmett was loud and excitable. Jasper was brilliant. Emmett was smart too, but not in the same way. He was quite successful; he had made a small fortune selling electric toilet paper dispensers for public restrooms. Alice and Jasper had a voice-activated one in their guest bathroom. It was a good time.

Rosalie thought the sun rose and set on him, and that meant her innate shyness took over when he was around. Although I enjoyed Emmett's company, I didn't see the attraction, but I wasn't one to judge anyone else's quirks.

"How are ya, Bella?" he boomed, reaching across the table. "Been a long time. How's the teaching?"

Did I mention that Emmett was loud? I wasn't kidding. My ears rang for hours after most conversations with him.

"Fine, fine," I replied. "I've been working on teaching the kids about using their inside voices this week."

"That sounds great!" he replied, oblivious to Jasper choking back laughter and Alice glaring at me.

"Have you met my buddy Tyler, here, Bella?" Emmett asked, slapping the shoulder of the man sitting next to him.

Oh, crap.

"Hi, Tyler, it's nice to meet you," I said, forcing my face into something I hoped looked friendly and not at all nauseated.

"Hello, _Bella_, it's _nice_ to meet you_too_," he said. Then he winked.

What was with the weird emphasis on random words, and did he seriously just wink at me?

_I promised Alice I would be nice. I can be nice. It's one dinner. Maybe it was an eye twitch. Maybe he has a potassium deficiency and he can't control his facial muscles. Maybe it's Bell's palsy. You wouldn't want to be mean to someone with Bell's palsy, would you? Wait, he's talking again!_

"- so when Emmett _told_ me about _you_, I just_knew_ I had to meet you in _person_, right, Emmett?"

"Right, bro!" Emmett shouted. Then, he and Tyler high-fived.

_Be nice. Maybe he has some obscure speech impediment, or a hearing loss. Be nice. Be nice benice benicebenice._

"So, Tyler," I began, "how do you know Emmett?"

"We're in the same _fantasy_ league. I _wanted_ to trade Johnson for Mirabou, and Emmett here had Mirabou, so he _hooked_ me up, right, bro?"

Another high-five. I assumed he thought I knew whom he was talking about, so I nodded politely.

"Johnson was such a _disappointment_. So much _hype_ in the pre-season, and then once the _league_ games started, he was barely doing _anything_. He only rushed for like, _twenty__yards_ in the first _five_ games."

"Mmm-hmmm." Vaguely interested humming was all I could manage. I had no idea what he was chattering on about, and his speech pattern made him sound like a fifteen-year-old girl.

He continued rambling about Johnson and Mirabou and fantasy whatever for a while. I think it had something to do with football. Maybe baseball? I continued to nod and make polite noises while I gazed over his right shoulder and wondered what kind of adult man wore a tank top to a restaurant in October. Probably the same kind that had an obvious tanning bed and baby oil addiction.

"So _anyway_, after that _matchup_ against the Colts, he just had to _go_. He was _ruining_ my spread, ya know? _Otherwise_ I had a _great_ team, and Emmett's pretty much _sucked_ anyway, so he agreed to _trade_. I just gotta wash his car every _Saturday_ for the rest of the season. It was worth it though, ya _gotta_ have a good f_antasy_ team, ya know? So, Bella, who's _you_r pick for National Conference champ _this_ year?"

"Ummm..." I was trying to think of a polite way to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but I was saved the embarrassment by his continued nattering. I shot a glance at Alice. Her wide eyes were watching us, full of hope. Jasper, on the other hand, looked like he was trying not to swallow his tongue while restraining his laughter.

"Or are you more an _American_ Conference kinda girl? You _look_ like you'd be an AFC chick. I _like_ the Raiders _myself_, although the Pats are looking _good_ this year, doncha _think_?"

"Ah, sure."

"Emmett said you _teach_ biology, that right?"

"Yes, I -"

"That's cool, I _guess_, I mean, somebody's _gotta_ teach that crap, right?" He laughed, and he sounded like a grown-up Beavis and/or Butthead. "I was never _real_ good at biology, _except_ for the sexual reproduction part, _right_, bro?"

"Toads!" I exclaimed, interrupting Tyler's third high-five with Emmett. Every head at the table snapped to face me. "Have you guys heard about the huge population of invasive toads that are making their way across Australia? Apparently they're killing off native wildlife because they're poisonous, and they're leaving this huge trail of animal corpses in their path! They're like little amphibian serial killers!"

Jasper lost the battle and doubled over, and I thought I heard Alice muttering profanity under her breath.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

"Seriously, Bella? Toads?"

"What do you want from me, Alice? He said bro, _repeatedly_. He called my life's passion crap. He talked nonstop about fantasy football. He wore a _tank__top_ to a _restaurant_, Alice, and I'm pretty sure he oiled his arms. Then he started making sex jokes!"

"But -"

Alice's protest was cut off when her husband placed a hand on her knee. The two of them had come back to my apartment with me after dinner to, as Alice said, "debrief."

"Baby, I hate to say this, but Bella's right. That man was ridiculous. I'm ashamed I ever agreed to help set this up. I know my brother can be a moron, but I really don't know what he was thinking with that one." Jasper patted her leg as he spoke. "It's amazing Bella put up with him as long as she did. You're going to have to let this one go, Sweets."

Alice visibly sagged. "All right, I get it. I'm sorry, Bella."

"It's okay, Alice, I know you meant well, I just-" I stopped myself from finishing the statement, not wanting to hurt Alice's feelings.

"You just what?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied, "it doesn't matter."

"What, Bella? You can tell me."

"It's just ... Alice, I don't get it. I've told you over and over that I'm not interested in being set up, and yet you keep insisting that I go out with all these random guys. Why are you so invested in this? If we are going to go out together, I would rather it be with just you, and maybe that guy over there," I said, tilting my head toward Jasper, who was listening intently.

"I'll be honest, Sweets, I've wondered the same thing," he said, looking into his wife's face.

Alice looked back and forth between us, and her eyes filled with tears. "I ... I just ... I hate the thought of you being alone, that's all. You should be happy." She twisted her mouth and drew her eyebrows together as she spoke. She looked just like an adorable unhappy toddler when she finished speaking.

I moved over next to her on the sofa and wrapped my arms around her. "I appreciate the thought, but really, I am happy. I don't have to be paired off for that to happen."

"Aren't you afraid of being by yourself for the rest of your life? Aren't you lonely?"

"Alice, I'm not going to deny that I think about it sometimes, but I'm really okay. I have a job I love, I have really good friends, I have Rufus to snuggle with; it's not all bad." I ruffled her hair and sat back.

"A snake is not the same as a husband," she said, eyeing Rufus warily through his glass enclosure. Alice tolerated Rufus for my sake, but she was not exactly his biggest fan.

I laughed. "I kind of suspected that when he never tried to make me watch sports or left the toilet seat up."

"Brat," she said, punching me lightly in the shoulder. "Not all men are like that. Jasper doesn't watch sports."

"That's because my brother watches enough for the both of us. He watches enough for the population of a small country, actually," Jasper observed.

Alice ignored him. "Not only that - I know you love your job, but you work way too much. You don't want to end up like old Banner, do you?"

"I have a feeling that if I lose my mind at school, it won't be because I don't have a man at home. Besides, didn't you say he was married? Clearly it didn't help him."

"You're right," she admitted with a sigh. "It doesn't mean that I'm not still worried about you."

I took a deep breath. "Alice, I'm not interested in dating. I've been there and done that, and I'm over it. I've accepted my life, and I'm content with it. I don't need to waste my time chasing after something I don't need."

"You are at least open to the idea, though, right? I mean, if the perfect guy were to show up at your doorstep and sweep you off your feet, you'd at least go out for coffee with him, wouldn't you?"

Her concerned tone made me grin. "Yes, Alice, if Mr. Right shows up on my doorstep and asks me to go get coffee, I will let him buy me a latte. Unfortunately, at the moment, the only guy outside my door – my classroom door, anyway - is Doctor Masen. He definitely isn't Mr. Right."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Thank so much to everyone who has read, favorited, alerted, and reviewed this story! Every email makes me so happy! I have very little spare time right now and so I am terrible about replying to reviews, but please know I appreciate the feedback!

So, should Bella give Tyler a second chance? Review and tell me what you think!

Now that you've finished this chapter, go read The Mirrors by adorablecullens. It's been finished for awhile, and it's amazing.


	4. Character Displacement

Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Because I am thankful for everyone reading my little story, I am posting early as a Thanksgiving gift for all of you! Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it, happy Thursday to all who don't!

Thanks to Klooqy and BelleDuJour from Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Character Displacement - A phenomenon in which species that live together in the same environment tend to diverge in those characteristics that overlap; exemplified by Darwin's finches._

When I entered my classroom on Wednesday morning I was greeted once again by the sight of Edward Masen sitting at my desk. This time, however, he vacated my chair as soon as I entered the room.

"Miss Swan," he said, moving out from behind the desk and standing awkwardly beside it.

"Mr. Masen," I replied, nodding coolly at him as I passed.

"Dr. Masen," he immediately corrected. I bit my tongue, literally, until I thought I tasted blood. It wasn't worth the fight this early in the morning.

"To what do I owe this ... pleasure?" I asked.

"I've been considering the plans we devised for this week," he said, "and I have concluded that it would not be value-added for me to rotate through other teacher's classes. If I am to be required to observe, I believe it would be best if I simply stayed with you for the rest of the week until I take over my own class."

Well, crap. This wasn't going to work. I was usually fine with being observed; I was good at what I did, and I normally just treated any guest like a normal member of the class. He was different. The previous day had been a disaster, thanks in large part to Edward. He was unnerving. He did nothing but sit in the back and watch. No note taking, no asking questions, no volunteering to help out when the kids had questions; just watching.

It was a little creepy.

Not only did he watch, but I also had the distinct feeling that while he was watching he was also judging. After all of his comments on the 'over-simplification of concepts' and his 'superior intelligence and education,' there was no doubt in my mind that he thought I, and probably all teachers, were drooling morons. More than once I wondered why exactly he had degraded himself to join our ranks.

The problem with having Doctor Judgy in the room was that my ineptitude increased in direct correlation to my nervousness. Having him there functioned as a self-fulfilling prophecy; he expected me to be a bumbling idiot, therefore I became one. I dropped items, I misplaced things, I forgot words, and I lost the ability to explain even simple concepts. In my entire education and ten years of teaching, I'd never broken a piece of equipment - yesterday I shattered two slides and broke the spout off a beaker. I mixed up the functions of xylem and phloem. A student had to remind me about the phases of mitosis, because I completely forgot them.

It was a very bad day, and no way was I having another one like it today because of him and his creepy staring.

"Doctor Masen," I said as calmly as I could, "Carlisle and I both think it would be of benefit for you to see as many different people as possible while you have the time this week, particularly given that you have no teaching experience and no training in education."

"I disagree," he said simply.

Of course he did.

"Why do you disagree, Doctor Masen?"

"I have concluded that it will be more beneficial for me to work with one person over the course of several days in order to gain a more detailed understanding of their tools and techniques rather than spread my focus over many people. Since you and I will share curriculum, and since I have already invested one day in studying you, it is only logical that I continue to do so."

He actually had a decent point, but for the sake of my mental health and the equipment repair-and-replacement budget, I had to talk him out of it. I was starting to sweat at the mere thought of spending another day with him in my class, never mind three more.

"Doctor Masen, while I understand your concerns, it is important for you to gain a broad view of teaching and classroom management techniques. Every teacher approaches their class and their subject differently, and every teacher develops his or her own style over time. It is vital that you discover something that will work for you. By spending time with several different people you can hopefully pick up a lot of different approaches." I looked at him, praying he was buying my arguments.

It didn't look like he was. In fact, he continued as if I hadn't even spoken. "Secondly, I've been looking over the schedule you devised, Ms. Swan, and I see that you have planned for me to observe not only other science classes, but math, English, history, and even a physical education class. Surely it is a waste of my time to sit in those other classes," he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively, as if math, English, history, and PE didn't matter.

"Once again, Doctor Masen," I replied, forcing the last two words through my clenched teeth, "the purpose of this week is not for you to learn the subject matter. You have a Ph.D. Obviously you already know a lot about biology. The point is for you to learn how to _teach_."

"If my observations yesterday are any indication, Ms. Swan," he said with a smirk, "that particular activity is not one that requires any significant level of skill."

_Professional,__professional,__professional,_I reminded myself fiercely.

"Well, perhaps watching some other teachers will relieve you of that particular misconception. Regardless, this is the course that Carlisle wishes you to follow." I glanced at the clock. "Come on, I'll show you to the classes you'll be observing today." I started to leave the room, then turned to face him again. "And, Doctor Masen, you may want to consider jotting down some notes about what you see today."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

My classroom had scarcely cleared for lunch when Alice appeared in the doorway, her face twisted. She just barely made it in the door before the tears started.

"Alice? What's wrong?" I circled my desk and tried to hug her, but she pushed me away and handed me the sheet of paper she clutched in her hand. I took it from her but before I could read it, she began to wail. Sweet, cheerful Alice was clearly distraught, and whatever was on that paper could wait until she had calmed down.

I quickly crossed the room and closed the door, then led Alice to my chair - it really was the only comfortable one in the room - and handed her a Kleenex.

"Alice, do you want to talk about it? Should I call Jasper? I squatted in front of her so I could look into her face, and reached around to stroke her hair. "Shhh, Alice, calm down. Breathe, okay?"

A few more sobs escaped her before she managed to take a couple of deep breaths. She hiccupped and started to choke out words.

"He- he said- I thought- I know I'm new, but- the kids- everybody passed and- I dropped the beaker- never thought- good teacher- loved this job-"

Oh, damn. Was that a termination notice? It was unheard of for a teacher to be terminated mid-year, unless she did something truly terrible, and if that were the case I would have heard about it. It was way too early for anyone to be getting notices about contract renewal, and besides, Carlisle had just mentioned to me the previous week how pleased he was with Alice's performance thus far.

"Alice? Alice, sweetie, you need to slow down and tell me what's wrong. You're starting to scare me." When she continued to cry inconsolably, I stood up and pulled my phone out of my purse, but she stopped me before I could dial Jasper's number.

"Wait, don't-" she gasped a few times, and I could see her making an effort to calm herself. She pulled another tissue from the box on my desk and wiped her face, then blew her nose. She took a shuddery breath and spoke the first complete sentence she'd managed since walking into the room.

"Don't call him. I know how he'll react, and it won't be helpful right now." She stood on shaky legs and crossed to the sink, where she wet a paper towel and held it to her face. "I'm fine, really." She choked out another sob, then laughed. "Okay, I'm not fine, but you still shouldn't call him." She leaned against the counter and continued pressing the wet paper towel to her face. "Do you have anything other than this? I think these paper towels still have wood chips in them."

I nodded and indicated a drawer next to where she leaned. She opened it to find a stack of dishcloths, and held one up.

"Is it safe?" she asked.

"Yeah, they're clean," I replied. "We don't use the same kinds of chemicals you do, anyway."

She wet the cloth and held it over her eyes, taking deep, measured breaths the whole time.

"Alice, I don't want you to start crying again, but if you can, please tell me what's wrong. I've never seen you like this."

"That's not surprising. I think the only time I've ever even been this upset was the time Jasper broke up with me our senior year." She chuckled. "Have I ever told you about that? The breakup lasted an entire two and a half days."

"Focus, please, Alice."

"Right. Have you read the paper?" She indicated the sheet she'd given me earlier. I'd discarded it, and it was on the floor.

"No, I honestly forgot about it."

"Read it."

I picked up the sheet and skimmed it, not entirely sure what could have elicited this kind of reaction.

It was written in cramped, almost illegible handwriting, and almost every square centimeter was covered. From what I could make out, it appeared to be a description of the events that occurred in Alice's classroom that morning. I saw the words "Mrs. Brandon" several times, along with words and phrases like: "lecture," " general explanation," "poor laboratory technique," "misunderstanding," and "oversimplification of scientific concepts."

That last one was a dead giveaway.

"Edward?" I asked.

"Edward," she confirmed. "Have you read the whole thing?"

"No, should I?"

"I think you should."

I continued down the page and onto the other side. At the end of the classroom observations, Edward had left an additional note.

_After spending my morning in Mrs. Brandon's classroom, I find it easy to understand why our nation faces a crisis in math and science scores among students. Her explanations of even the simplest chemical concepts are elementary in the extreme, and I feel pity for any student who continues on in his science education if he is reliant upon the foundational knowledge he gains in Mrs. Brandon's class. It is my opinion that both Mrs. Brandon and her students would be better served if she chose to pursue a career outside of education, and preferably in a field other than chemistry._

It was signed, "Dr. E. Masen."

After I finished reading, I looked over at Alice.

"No wonder you were crying. How on earth did you even get this?"

"That's the kicker. He _gave_ it to me. He left it lying on my desk and pointed it out before he left to go to lunch. He said he thought I might 'find it of assistance.'"

"He is unbelievable." I flopped down into my desk chair and sighed.

"Is he right, Bella?" Alice asked. Her eyes were brimming with tears again. "Am I really that bad? I mean, I know I'm pretty new, and I know I know the subject. I have a doctorate for goodness' sake, but there are plenty of smart people who can't teach. Am I one of those people?"

"Alice, no. You're great. You're only in your second year, and everyone struggles at the beginning, but you are really good. The kids love you, and you said it yourself; all of them passed the state test last year. It's unusual for everyone to pass in a class with an experienced teacher, never mind a first year teacher. He has no clue, plus he's an asshole."

"You promise?" she asked, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

"Yes, I promise; I'm fairly certain he's an asshole." I grinned at her and she giggled.

"You know what I mean."

I stood and walked over to where she still leaned against my counter and put my arms around her. "You're doing a great job." I pulled away and looked at her wonderingly. "One thing though - you have a doctorate? As in a Ph.D.?"

"Of course! You didn't know that?"

I shook my head. "Alice, you're twenty-five. How on earth do you have a Ph.D.?"

"Oh, that!" She waved her hand as if having a doctoral degree in Chemistry at twenty-five was no big deal. "So?"

"So, you started teaching at twenty-four, and you said you took a year off before that. You finished a Ph.D. at twenty-two? How is that even possible?"

"Well, I started undergrad at fifteen, I finished when I was eighteen, and then my doctorate took four years. I would have finished faster than that but my thesis advisor died. It took me awhile to get my new one to take me seriously."

"Yeah, I can see how that would be rough," I replied. I felt a little dazed. I knew she was brilliant, but I had no idea she was _this_ brilliant.

Alice continued. "That's why Jas broke up with me that time I mentioned. I was barely eighteen when we met. He thought I was too young. He's only four years older than me, but I guess when you're twenty-two, dating an eighteen year old is a little odd. I wasn't really your average eighteen year old, though."

"So you got married when you were eighteen?"

"Oh, no, silly! We got married right before I finished my degree. I was twenty-one. My father insisted we wait, and besides, I was really busy with my research."

"Research?"

"Yeah, for my dissertation I developed an environmentally-friendly coolant for use in wind and water turbines. Writing a dissertation and doing all those patent applications_and_ planning a wedding were really time-consuming."

"P-p-patent applications?" I needed to sit down. I walked over and dropped into my chair.

"Yeah, some companies got wind of my research, and they wanted to use it, but I had to patent everything first and figure out what to charge and everything. The companies weren't so bad to deal with, but the government was kind of a pain in the butt."

"The _United__States_ government?"

"Yeah, they were super interested. It all worked out in the end though, and the money was nice; it meant that Jazzy and I could take a year off and travel for our honeymoon."

"Alice, forgive me for being nosy, but, um...how _much_ money?"

"Oh, I don't know, a few million initially, and then there's some more each year, plus I've made some alterations to the formula that increased its uses ... I don't really know; Jazzy takes care of all that. He's much better at all the business stuff. I just like to invent things."

"Okay, please understand that you are one of my best friends and I love having you here, but, Alice ... why the _hell_ are you teaching high school?"

"I thought it would be fun! I needed to do something, and I didn't want to work in a boring old lab. I have a lab at home, but I didn't want to be there alone all day. I was too young to really get to do the whole high school thing when I was there, so this was a second chance. All the fun without all the drama, you know?"

"Let me get this straight. You got a Ph.D. at twenty-two, you're married to the love of your life, you're a millionaire, you are doing this job for fun, and yet you let_this_ upset you?" I held out the offending paper. She took it from me and glanced over it.

"I may be here for fun, but I still want to do a good job, you know? That whole math/science crisis thing is real. Jazzy and I have been investigating some different foundations to invest in that are working on the problem. It's one of the reasons I decided to teach, too. I love chemistry so much, and I hoped I could get other people to love it."

"Alice, that's just..."

"Can I tell you a secret?" she interrupted.

"You know you can tell me anything."

"It's a secret-secret, like, you can't tell _anyone_."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I'm dying to tell someone." Alice's eyes widened until she took on her classic cartoon-character look.

"Okay, go for it." After all of her revelations of the past half hour, I could not begin to guess what she was about to tell me.

"We're funding a scholarship. We're going to pick three seniors from King Phillip and pay for their college, wherever they want to go. Tuition, books, room and board - everything. We're even giving them a stipend."

Now it was my eyes that were full of tears. "Alice, you're amazing. You have no reason to ever feel bad about yourself or your teaching. Next time that jerk gives you trouble, tell him to screw himself."

"You're right," she said, nodding and standing up straighter.

"Do you want me to go to Carlisle with this?" I asked, holding up the offending paper. "I will if you want me to."

"Nope." She quirked her eyebrows and grinned. "I'll handle it myself."

I was about to ask her how she planned to handle it when Doctor Obnoxious himself appeared in the doorway.

"Miss Swan, Mrs. Brandon," he said, with a slight nod.

Alice picked up the paper and swept toward the door, her head erect. She paused as she passed him in the doorway.

"Thank you for the, ah ... feedback, Mr. Masen," she said. Before he could cut in with the ever-present correction of his name, she continued, "just one thing though. In the future, I would prefer it if you address me as Doctor Brandon." She smiled archly and called back, "Have a good afternoon, Bella," then exited the room.

I had to hand it to her; the girl had style.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Thanks for reading! Click the little button and tell me what you thought, then go read In Your World by solostintwilight. Fun with Amishward!


	5. Fixed Action Pattern

Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks to BelleDuJour and thalia-csiny from Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Fixed Action Pattern - A highly stereotypical behavior, triggered by a stimulus, that is innate and must be carried to completion once initiated._

It took years to get through the week. Babysitting Edward Masen had taken over my life. No matter how early I arrived, every morning I walked in to find him sitting behind my desk – although, thankfully, he got up as soon as he saw me - and every afternoon I had to deal with the fallout from his behavior. I comforted two other teachers who were in tears because of things he said to them in his observation notes, and I had to talk Angela Webber out of quitting altogether. Lauren Mallory wound up in my room, threatening to do him bodily harm if he ever set foot in her classroom again. The only person he didn't offend was, surprisingly, Rosalie. She said he just sat there and listened, and after class, he actually thanked her. She was a calculus badass, after all; maybe she met his mysterious standards.

By Friday afternoon, I'd had enough. I gathered my evidence and went to see Carlisle.

"Ms. Swan, this is certainly a pleasure. Please come in and have a seat."

I entered his office and closed the door behind me, then sat down in one of the chairs that faced his desk.

"How can I help you this afternoon, Bella?" he asked with a smile.

"We need to talk about Edward Masen."

His smile faltered, then fell. "I was afraid of that." He sighed heavily. "What's the problem, exactly?"

"Where would you like me to start?"

He pressed his fingers together and gazed at me over the peak. "Start wherever you feel comfortable."

"May I be completely honest with you?"

"Of course."

"Carlisle," I said, after taking a deep breath, "this week has been a nightmare. Please understand, I don't mean to question your decisions, but I cannot comprehend how you could possibly have hired that man."

"He is quite knowledgeable, you know."

"I have no doubt he is, but we both know that subject expertise alone is not enough to do this job. Not only does he lack the skills to teach, he lacks the basic social grace to function in a workplace with other people! He is arrogant, he's rude, and he is unbelievably critical. He made three teachers cry this week with his comments about their teaching, and he sent Lauren into a violent rage. She's a nun, Carlisle. A _nun_. I had to talk her out of stabbing him with a pair of scissors."

"I have notes here that he's written." I handed Edward's "observations" across the desk to my principal and began to point out particular statements. "He told Alice that she shouldn't be teaching and that she should leave chemistry altogether. He said that Angela's students 'indicated to him by their poor usage of grammar that she was clearly ineffectual as an English instructor.' He said that Lauren had 'such an inadequate grasp of history that he is astounded she manages to recall the events of yesterday.' He even took it upon himself to criticize P.E.! He told Mike that 'under his tutelage, student injury was a foregone conclusion' and that, 'moreover, shorts worn that short by an adult man were an affront to decency!'"

I giggled at the last sentence, and I was pretty sure Carlisle stifled a chuckle as well.

"Anyway, except for that last one, which isn't too far afield, every other comment he's made has been not only inaccurate but cruel. These are some of our best teachers! Angela's won awards! Lauren came here from one of the most prestigious Catholic schools in the country! I don't know what this guy's problem is, but I have to warn you - if this continues, you won't have a faculty left."

"I apologize, Bella. None of you should have been subjected to that, and I will certainly speak with him regarding appropriate treatment of his colleagues. Was there anything else?"

"Yes," I continued. "Carlisle, I am really worried about what's going to happen when he gets in front of a classroom next week. If he talks to teachers like this, what is he going to say to students? So far he hasn't made any comments to them, but from what I've seen, he hasn't really interacted with the kids at all."

"I will be sure to caution him strongly about how he speaks to the students. What else?"

"He keeps talking about how easy teaching is. I don't think he has any idea what he is about to walk into. I'm concerned that the kids will fall even further behind because of his ineptitude."

"I share your concern, Bella, and please trust that I will be keeping very close tabs on the situation. But you have to understand the position I am in. There is a serious shortage of science teachers in this area. I know this is not ideal, but I felt it would be preferable to spending weeks, or possibly months, with a substitute in the class. Despite his personal ... shortcomings ... he is still going to need your support and assistance over the next few weeks. Do you think you can find it within yourself to give him a second chance?"

I sighed. "Of course, Carlisle. I'll try. But if he winds up buried in the football field, don't blame me."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

By four-thirty, I was burned out and too distracted to do any more work. I knew I would regret it come Monday, but I decided to leave everything at school and take the entire weekend off. I would need the rest if I wanted to survive the inevitable shitstorm that would start once Edward Masen got a class of his own.

Thinking of He-Who-Could-Not-Be-Pleased brought up a new dilemma. At Carlisle's request, I had written detailed lesson plans for Edward's first week of teaching. I had them on a flash drive, along with accompanying PowerPoints, lab activities, and worksheets. It was a whole week of class tied in a pretty little bow.

The problem was getting it to him. If he were any other colleague, I would have just walked it over to his classroom and either given it to him in person or left it on his desk. I usually enjoyed delivering items to my co-workers; it gave me a good opportunity to check in with them and catch up a bit. But he wasn't any other colleague, and I didn't think I could do it.

At this time on a Friday afternoon, chances were good that he had already gone home, but there was a possibility that he was still here.

I really, really didn't want to see him.

You know the scene in that plane crash movie where the guy knocked out his own tooth with an ice skate blade? I would have rather done that than see Doctor Edward Masen again this week, or even hear his voice.

"Miss Swan?"

Crap.

I closed my eyes, inhaled slowly through my nose, and began praying fervently to every deity within hearing range that the sound I just heard was an auditory hallucination. It was probably stress-induced. Maybe I was developing schizophrenia. Schizophrenia would have been far preferable to having the real source of that voice in my classroom at that moment.

"Miss Swan? May I have a moment?"

I turned and saw him. Not a hallucination. Dammit.

I inhaled deeply once again before I spoke. "How may I help you?"

"I've come to pick up the lesson plans you've prepared for next week. I thought it might be value-added for me to review them this weekend so that I can make any necessary alterations or corrections."

"Mmm-hmm." I didn't trust myself to speak at that point. I had promised Carlisle I would try to give him a chance, and losing my cool now would not be the most effective way to do that. I just need to get through this, go home, cuddle with Rufus, and maybe eat a bathtub full of Chocolate Cherry Nut Truffle ice cream.

"I would also like to borrow a textbook. Before I assign reading to the students, I need to ensure that they are getting accurate information."

"Mmm-hmm." I retrieved the flash drive from my desk and pulled a textbook off my bookshelf, then handed both to Edward.

"Thank you, Miss Swan." He fell silent, and after a moment, I looked in his direction, hoping the quiet meant he was gone.

No such luck. Not only was he still there, he had a very odd look on his face. Annoyance? Nervousness? Constipation? No matter what the emotion, he looked as if he had more to say, and I braced myself for whatever it was.

It never came. He stood there in all of his graceless, constipated glory for decades. I waited while he stared at the floor, at the lab tables, and at the posters on the wall. He glanced briefly at me and then back down at the floor.

"Was there something else you needed?"

"Um." He shuffled his feet just a bit. "This is a nice classroom."

I nearly fell over. Did Doctor Edward Cullen just say something _nice_ to me?

"Thank you," I managed to stammer.

"You're welcome," he replied. He fell into that tense silence again.

"Anything else?"

"Um, do you ... I mean, would you ... is there a number I could use to contact you ... just in case ... you know, if I need any sort of ... clarification, or ... an email address would be fine, I suppose ... really, don't even worry about it ..." I suddenly had a mental picture of a gangly freshman boy in the hallway trying to talk to a cheerleader, and I nearly laughed out loud, partly at the image and partly at the idea of myself as the cheerleader in this little scenario.

I stifled my laugh and decided to put him out of his misery. "That's no problem." I jotted my cell phone number on a post-it and handed it to him. "You can call me if you have any questions or need any help, okay?"

"Thank you," he said, pocketing the little piece of paper. "I won't bother you unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Don't worry about it." I began packing up my belongings to head home. I had already been exhausted before he showed up, and the emotional whiplash from this new, nervous, almost friendly Edward was more than I could handle.

I shouldered my bag and headed towards the doorway. He followed me out and I closed and locked the door behind us. He meandered next to me down the hallway and actually opened the outside door for me. It was almost as if ... surely not. Surely he was not walking me to my car.

He was. He did. He walked me to my car. He even held my bag for me as I fumbled in it for my keys.

Once everything was settled on the passenger seat and I was ready to go, I turned to him. I smiled at my new colleague, and for once, it did not require a Herculean effort.

"Have a good weekend, Edward," I said, and I meant it. I hoped he did have a good weekend.

"Doctor Masen," he corrected.

I took a deep breath. I counted to ten. I pictured a sunny meadow full of purple flowers. I counted to twenty. I imagined myself lying on a beach in Mexico with a fruity drink. I counted to one hundred and eight in multiples of three. I recited pi to twenty decimal places.

Then I exploded.

"What exactly the HELL is your problem?" I screamed.

His eyes widened. "I … I don't … What do you mean?" He was inching away from me, which was probably a good idea at this point if he valued his face.

"You and your damn Doctor Masen!"

"But that's ... it's my name!"

"No, it's not! Your name is Edward! Doctor is a title, and your insistence that everyone use it is obnoxious and disrespectful. In case you haven't noticed, we all call each other by our first names. Even Carlisle doesn't ask us to call him doctor, and he's the principal!"

His face hardened. "I'm so sorry I want to be called by the title I worked hard to earn." He turned and strode towards his vehicle, but now that the gates were open, there was no stopping the flood.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, you arrogant prick!" He stopped but did not turn around.

"Over the past five days, you have run the gamut from arrogant to cruel, and the problem goes way beyond your damn name. You had the opportunity to spend time with some of the most talented educators out there and instead of learning from them, you chose to denigrate their efforts. You and your 'observations' made three different people cry, did you know that? You've been snide, conceited, and critical, and while that's not a great idea in general, it's a particularly bad plan when you're the lowest man on the totem pole. Hell, at this point, you're not even on the pole yet.

"King Phillip Academy has the most wonderful, supportive, dedicated, and skilled faculty you can imagine, and instead of embracing them, you have managed to alienate every person you've encountered. I hate to tell you this, _Doctor_ Masen, but you've only been here for five days and you are far and away the most despised man on this campus. Even Sister Mallory hates you, and she's the most loving person I've ever met.

"This job is ridiculously challenging, and the only way we can all survive is to support each other. Congratulations - you've ensured that no one is going to want to support you. You're going to fail, and we're all going to enjoy watching you do it. I don't know what your problem is, and I don't care. Right now, I hope I never have to see your stupid, smug face ever again."

I ended my tirade by getting into my car and slamming the door behind me. He stood frozen where he'd stopped earlier, and gave no indication of whether he'd heard me or not. I sat and glared at the back of his head until I felt my anger began to fade into something much worse.

Fortunately, the tears didn't start until I was almost home.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

So what do you think? Did Bella go too far? Click the little button and tell me what you think!

Thanks for reading! Now go check out Nightingale by Lady Gwynedd, and while you're at it, read everything else she's written. She's amazing!


	6. Coevolution

_Coevolution - The mutual influence on the evolution of two different species interacting with each other and reciprocally influencing each other's adaptations._

I don't own Twilight. If I did, I'd probably own an ipad as well, but I don't.

Thanks to the lovely BelleDuJour and Melissa from Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

I dreaded Monday.

Very few people ever want the weekend to end faster, but I usually didn't mind it. I had a good job, I enjoyed my students, and my colleagues and I got along. Under normal circumstances, I looked forward to work each week.

This was was clearly an exception.

The thought of looking Edward in the face after the horrible things I said to him on Friday afternoon made me want to cry again, and I was pretty sure I'd already met my crying quota for the next few months.

I always thought it would be satisfying to call someone out on his bad behavior and tell him what I really thought. I'd done it in my head in a dozen different situations, but the circumstances had never been right. Now I knew better. In reality, it didn't make me some kind of righteous avenger; it just made me another bad guy, and I ended up feeling worse. I couldn't sleep Friday night. My brain was too busy replaying the awful words I'd flung at Edward. My accusations of cruelty had been hypocritical, since I had perpetrated the same thing on him. He had been critical, but so had I. I knew I'd crossed the line when I called him stupid, but even as I heard myself say it, I couldn't stop. Every time I thought about our conversation, I got more upset. It hadn't been a conversation. It had been an attack, and he hadn't even tried to defend himself.

All those emotions, combined with the sick feeling in my stomach at the thought of confessing to Carlisle, meanttha that I was a disaster. I considered calling him on Saturday, just to get it over with, but I figured I had already ruined my own weekend, and probably Edward's too. That was enough.

Carlisle would have to be told, of course. It never even crossed my mind to try to hide our little run-in from him. Edward was sure to tattle, but even if he didn't, it was the kind of confrontation that quite possibly meant Edward would refuse to work with me. Regardless of our personal conflicts, he was still a part of my department and he still needed a mentor. If I couldn't fill that role, someone else would have to, and that was a decision that should be left to our principal.

Saturday was spent lying on my couch, watching mindless television, worrying, and making myself sick thinking about what Monday would bring. I got tired of hearing my phone ringing. The only people who called me regularly were Alice and my mother, and I didn't want to talk to either of them. Despite her hurt, Alice had handled her own situation with Edward with grace, and I couldn't bear to confess my meltdown to her just yet. If I talked to her at all, she would know something was wrong. I finally turned the phone off, but before I did, I saw there were a couple of calls from a number I didn't recognize. I figured they were from a telemarketer or someone similar. I was in no shape to deal with a random guy trying to sell me replacement windows.

Saturday night passed in a half-asleep haze. I was exhausted, but my brain still wouldn't shut up. If I couldn't get my emotions under control by Monday, I wouldn't be able to function at all, and the only thing worse than the idea of facing Edward Masen was the idea of facing him as an incoherent, weepy mess.

With that in mind, Sunday morning brought with it a new resolve to get myself together. Yes, I had screwed up. It wasn't the end of the world. Unless Edward was related to someone on the school board and was even more vindictive than I suspected, I probably wouldn't get fired. Monday would undoubtedly be humiliating and difficult, but I would get through it.

So I forced myself out of bed. I ate. Laundry and dishes got washed, and the thousand other little chores that I tended to ignore throughout the week got done. When the doorbell rang, I answered it.

The last thing I expected to find was Edward Masen on the other side.

Words failed me. I stood there like a _Gadus__morhua_, my mouth wide open.

He looked uncomfortable, which was not even a little surprising. We stood there gaping at one another for ages before he spoke.

"Miss Swan?" He gazed down at his feet, which were absently flipping over the corner of my welcome mat. "Um ... could I maybe ... could I come in for a moment? I would like to speak with you and you didn't ... I tried calling several times ..."

It took several attempts before I managed a reply. "I turned my phone off."

"Oh." He still didn't look up at me. "I guess ... I'll just go, then." He started to turn away, but I stopped him.

"Please, Ed- I mean, Doctor Masen ... come on in." He finally looked up at me and his expression took me aback. I couldn't quite place it, but it wasn't anything I ever expected to see on his face. He looked … embarrassed.

"Miss Swan, I ... please, will you call me Edward?"

I inhaled sharply but did not reply. Instead, I waved him through the door and into the living room, where I quickly shifted a pile of clothes off the sofa and gestured for him to sit.

"Sorry about the mess. I was doing laundry." I moved another pile so that I could sit down on a chair. Suddenly my legs felt very unstable.

He shook his head. "Please, do not concern yourself. I understand that I am here unexpectedly." He sat stiffly, his back straight. I popped up, and my sudden motion seemed to startle him.

"Can I get you anything?" My voice cracked and I cleared my throat. "Water, um ... I think that's all I have, maybe there's a beer here somewhere ..." I found that I was flailing my arms and deliberately brought them to my sides.

"Water would be much appreciated, thank you," he replied. It appeared that he hadn't noticed my Kermit the Frog impression, or maybe he was graciously ignoring it.

I practically sprinted into the kitchen and said a silent prayer of thanks for whatever genius architect had designed my apartment with a full wall between the two rooms instead of one of those half-wall bar things that were so popular. I braced myself with both hands on the counter and tried desperately to slow my breathing. My head felt as if it were full of helium.

_Edward__Masen__is__in__my__apartment_, I thought frantically. _He__is__in__my__living__room.__He__'__s__talking__to__my__snake._ I giggled hysterically as I heard his voice addressing Rufus. That surprised me. He didn't seem the type to converse with a stranger's pet.

Remembering my offer of water, I pulled two glasses from the cabinet and filled them from the pitcher in my refrigerator. After taking another moment for a few more deep breaths and a quick, desperate plea to the heavens, I returned to the living room bearing our beverages.

He was looking away from me, seemingly entranced at watching Rufus wind himself around his favorite branch. I took the opportunity while Edward was distracted to examine him more closely. He looked different, but I couldn't quite discern why at first. He was dressed informally in jeans and a blue, long-sleeved button down. I didn't know much about fashion, but it looked to me as if the jeans weren't particularly stylish. They were made of a stiff, heavy denim, and just like the dress pants he wore to school, they revealed several inches of pale leg between their bottom hem and the edge of his white ankle socks. It wasn't until he turned back around that I realized what had changed his appearance so much - his hair.

Normally it was pulled to one side with a part so straight that I wondered if he used calipers to get it just right, and plastered down with some unknown hair product. Today it was a mess - an unruly, curly mess that looked as if he'd been tugging on it for the past twenty-four hours - and it was unmistakably red. In addition to his wild hair, he wore glasses with thin tortoise-shell frames that he had never worn to school.

It kind of worked for him.

I placed the drinks carefully on the low table between us. He looked at me for a moment, and then looked away, back towards Rufus's enclosure.

"He's really beautiful," he said. "Corn snake?"

"Yes." I hesitated a moment before I spoke again. "I'm surprised. I figured you would be scared of him - if you ever saw him, that is." I didn't mention the fantasies I'd entertained that all involved using Rufus to torture him.

He flushed slightly. "I can see how you would think that." He fell silent again and stared at the carpet.

I took a sip of my water, and then I took a gulp. This was arguably the most uncomfortable moment of my life, and I grew up with a mother who found it completely appropriate to ask me about my menstrual cycle in restaurants. Loudly.

"Miss Swan -"

"Doctor Masen -"

We both fell silent again.

"You can call me Bella if you want, you know. Most people do." I lifted my glass again to find it empty. _When__did__that__happen?_

He nodded stiffly.

"Miss - I mean, Bella," he replied slowly, "I think ... I mean, I know ... I, well, I owe you an apology."

"Edward, I - wait, what?"

"I owe you an apology." He finally looked at me and his gaze fell fully on mine. I jumped up, grabbed both of our glasses, and managed to slosh half the contents of his onto the floor.

"More water!" I practically shouted. I took a breath and attempted to control my tone. "I'll get us some more water."

I refilled the glasses, then noticed the ice trays were frozen, so I emptied and refilled them ... and I took a moment to wipe down the counter ... the paper towels needed replacing ... the clean dishes in the dishwasher had really been sitting there too long ... my twelve spices required alphabetizing ...

He was still there when I peeked into the living room.

Dammit, why couldn't a hole open up in the Earth and swallow people on demand? I didn't care who got swallowed, him or me. There really should be an app for that.

My thought processes may have been a wee bit irrational.

Somehow my feet carried me back to my chair, and I managed to place the glasses on the table and seat myself. It was only after those tasks were accomplished that I managed to speak again.

"Doc - Edward, I think you're mistaken. It's me ... I ... I should apologize to you." I couldn't look at him; instead I remained focused on my hands.

To my surprise, he chuckled. I looked over to see a small self-deprecating grin on his face. "While that may be the case, I feel quite sure that I am the greater transgressor in this particular contretemps."

I pursed my lips and contemplated him for moment. "Edward, I'm pretty smart, but I have no idea what you just said."

He chuckled again. "It's my bad," he said, then grinned - a real, full on, toothy grin.

I looked at him in shock for a moment and then started to laugh.

"Did you - seriously - just say - 'my bad?'" I asked, gasping for air.

"Apparently I did. I'm glad I amuse you." He attempted to look stern, but his face cracked into another grin.

He spoke again after I calmed down. "In complete seriousness, I should apologize. The things you said were correct. I have been difficult this week. I recognize that my social skills are somewhat ... limited, and those limitations become magnified under physical or emotional duress."

"Duress?"

He flushed. "Yes, I, ah ... I confess I have been somewhat anxious recently, and that anxiousness has been amplified over the past week."

"Really? You're _nervous_? That's why you've been such an ass?" I clapped my hands over my mouth and squeaked. "Sorry."

"It's quite all right, Bella. You're correct in your assessment; I have been an ass." He took a long drink of his water. "I am ashamed of the way I have behaved of late. I know that it is not an excuse, but I confess I am exceptionally trepidatious about the upcoming week, and that has exacerbated my normal lack of social grace. I apologize for my behavior."

"But, Edward ... if you were so scared, why didn't you just say something? I kept offering to help, and you just blew me off and kept telling me how easy my job was."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "I apologize for that, as well. It was never my intention to disparage your abilities."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, both sipping our water. "What are you nervous about, Edward? Clearly you know the material. That's half the battle."

"I am not nervous about that. It's the rest of the required job responsibilities. I am unsure how to deal with teenagers all day long, and I dislike the idea of failing to fulfill my obligations." He dropped his gaze to the glass he held, his fingers toying with the rim.

"I know they can be intimidating, Edward, but they aren't that bad. Our kids are pretty good, actually. You're young, and it hasn't been that long since you were in high school. Don't you remember what you were like at that age?"

He sat in silence for so long that I began to wonder if something was wrong. "Edward? Are you alright?"

"I ... that's part of the problem. I, um, I didn't go to high school. There's nothing for me to remember."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but I did not speak. If he wanted to continue, he would. He was clearly uncomfortable, and I didn't want to push.

"It's a long story, Bella, and one I am not skilled at sharing." The sadness on his face took me by surprise.

"I have time."

After a long pause, he sighed and began to speak.

"My father was much older than my mother. She was beautiful, smart, and funny, and he adored her. He doted on her; in fact, his affection toward her was really the only tenderness I ever saw him show. My mother became pregnant early in their marriage, and she gave birth to my sister Katherine. Although my father was happy to have a child, he was disappointed not to have a son. They tried for several years to have another baby, but with no luck. I came along ten years later, long after they had given up hope of having more children.

"Even though we were ten years apart, as soon as I was old enough to be cognizant of my surroundings, I worshipped Kate. She was just as sweet and beautiful as my mother, and very easy to love. My time with my parents was limited. My father was very wealthy, and he and my mother had many social obligations. We had a nanny, of course, and our physical needs were cared for, but she was not an particularly affectionate or demonstrative person. Despite the difference in our ages, Kate was my playmate and my best friend. She would come home from school - she went to a very exclusive private day school - and she would play with me. Even when she had homework to do, she allowed me to stay with her; I would play with my toys in the floor while she worked. Sometimes she read her schoolwork out loud to me, and she taught me to read when I was very young. The first really big word I remember learning was photosynthesis.

"I started kindergarten when I was five and she was fifteen, a sophomore in high school. We went to the same school, and every day we would walk together, holding hands. She had activities after school, so most of the time, the nanny would come pick me up and walk me home, and I would wait patiently for Kate to arrive. We would sit at a table in the nursery together; she did her homework while I practiced my reading or letters.

"Things changed when I was seven. Kate stopped spending so much time with me, and when she was there, she was distracted, or angry, or sad. I was too young to understand why; I just knew that something was wrong. I tried to comfort her as best I could, but it wasn't enough. Sometimes I would lie in bed and hear her and my father yelling at one another. If my nanny came in, I would pretend to be asleep, but sometimes my mother would come and check on me and I would ask her what they were yelling about. She always said that Kate was growing up, and that sometimes growing up was hard. Then she would stroke my hair and tell me to go to sleep. One morning, just after my eighth birthday, I got up and got ready to go to school, but when I went downstairs to meet Kate for our walk together, I found the nanny waiting for me instead. Kate was gone."

I gasped. I had been completely enthralled by his story. "What happened to her?"

He smiled sadly. "She ran away. She was pregnant. To say my father was angry would be a vast understatement. He is - was - a very strict, demanding man, with exacting standards for everyone in his life, and his daughter was no exception. Having a child out of wedlock was completely unacceptable. That's what all the fighting was about. He demanded that she terminate the pregnancy and then he planned to send her to an all-girls boarding school out of state. She refused. When he would not give up his demands, she left.

"Of course, I found out those details much later on. At the time, they just told me that she had gone away and would not be coming back. I was devastated. It didn't end there though. My father was convinced that being around other young people had ruined his daughter, and he was not letting the same thing happen to his son. He fired the nanny for failing to adequately monitor Kate and replaced her with a tutor. I stopped going to school, and my contact with my peers became very limited. Eventually it stopped altogether."

"Oh Edward, that's..."

"It was not all bad, Bella." He smiled reassuringly. "I didn't know what I was lacking most of the time. Jenks was a brilliant man, and we got along well. I enjoyed learning from him. I had never gotten along very well with others my age anyway - Kate had been my best friend. I missed her terribly, but I didn't really miss the company of children.

"It wasn't until I went to university that I realized what had been lacking in my upbringing. My education was impeccable and academically, I was far ahead of the other students, but I had no ability to interact with them. It was humiliating. After a few devastating attempts, I ceased trying."

"But, Edward, I interjected, "You're not completely inept. I admit, you aren't exactly socially graceful, but you clearly picked up some behavior patterns somewhere."

He laughed humorlessly. "About halfway through university, my father pulled me into his office and told me he had decided that it was important for my future that I learn some 'management skills.' He noticed that I did not seem to deal well with others after an unfortunate incident with one of his employees. It was nothing untoward; I was just too shy and awkward to deal with a problem and he had to step in. He sent me to a coach - a therapist of sorts - to learn how to, in his words, 'deal with my underlings.' In my father's eyes, everyone was an underling. Mostly I learned how to be an arrogant ass. Unfortunately, that still seems to be my default." He hung his head, and his face reflected so much sadness that it made my heart hurt.

I moved so that I was sitting next to him on the sofa, and placed my hand on his back. "Edward, it's ... well, it's not okay, but nothing is irreparable."

"But you said -"

"I know what I said." After hearing Edward's story, I felt even more like a superbitch than I had before, but at least I had the opportunity to apologize. "I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry. I was wrong."

"So I'm not 'the most despised man on campus?'" he asked, raising one eyebrow in disbelief.

"Well ... okay, you are." He dropped his head back down into his hands with a groan before I continued. "But that doesn't mean no one will support you, and no one wants you to fail. If you just apologize, everyone will get over it eventually."

There was one more thing I needed to say, and I really didn't want to say it. I took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I handled everything all wrong. I was rude and unprofessional, and," I gulped and forced out the words in a rush, "andyourfaceisn'tstupid."

A laugh escaped him, and I scowled. "It is smug though; don't get cocky."

He looked contrite, but I could see him fighting a smile. "That's because I'm smarter than you, Miss Swan," he said, finally allowing the smile to break through.

I wanted to be irritated at his words, but instead I looked at his smirk and his crazy hair and I found myself smiling back.

"We'll see about that, Dr. Masen. We'll see."'

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, alerting, favoriting, etc, etc. You all rock!

A _Gadus__morhua_is a species of codfish, in case you were wondering.

So what do you think happened to Kate? Is there any hope for our Doctor Masen? Click the button and share!

I will try diligently to stick to my weekly posting schedule over the holidays, but I and my betas have some schedule craziness coming up, so we'll see what happens. If you celebrate holidays, I hope you have wonderful ones!


	7. Insight Learning

I know this is late, the holidays have thrown me off a bit. So sorry!

Thanks to the lovely BelleDuJour and Melissa from project team beta for their help with this chapter.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Insight Learning - The ability of an animal to perform a correct or appropriate behavior on the first attempt in a situation with which it has had no prior experience._

Monday morning found me in a much calmer frame of mind. After our discussion on Sunday afternoon, Edward and I had parted on much better terms than I could have ever hoped. While we weren't exactly friends - I kind of doubted we ever would be, and I didn't think he wanted that - at least we weren't at each other's throats. He had suggested that we keep our little altercation to ourselves rather than telling Carlisle, and he insisted that he still wanted me to be his mentor. He even complimented me on the lesson plans I had written for him.

I was surprised Monday morning when I walked into my classroom to find it empty. Edward had been waiting for me every morning during the past week. I supposed he was in his own classroom, and I had an inexplicable urge to go say good morning and check on him. Instead, I made sure I had everything ready for my day. I double checked my copies and ran through my PowerPoint to make sure everything worked correctly. It wasn't until I realized I had counted the graduated cylinders for the day's lab three times that I chastised myself for being ridiculous. I was his mentor, and it was his first day teaching. Not only was it acceptable to go check on him, it was my job to do so.

I stepped across the hall and found him sitting stiffly behind his desk, clicking away at his computer. He was again dressed in a short-sleeved white shirt that didn't quite fit, black pants, and a tie covered in what I realized were little Erlenmeyer flasks. His hair was once again parted severely and plastered to his head. When I saw that, I felt a little twinge. If it were anyone else I was looking at, I would've called it disappointment.

"Miss Swan," he greeted when he saw me, "I hope you are well this morning."

"I am." I paused, suddenly unsure of myself. "How are you feeling about today?"

"I am prepared for the day, thank you." He looked back down at the papers on his desk. Formal Doctor Masen was back. It was if our conversation yesterday had been imaginary.

"Do you need anything? Any last minute questions?"

He did not look up to reply. "No, I think I have everything I need." I was about to retreat when he spoke again. "Thank you for asking." He was looking at me again, and he smiled just a little, but rather than making me feel better, it spurred me to leave more quickly.

"Well ... if you need anything, I'm right across the hall," I managed to stammer out before I sprinted back to my classroom.

What the hell was my problem?

Before I could close my classroom door and try to figure out what on Earth was going on in my crazy brain, Alice appeared and startled me enough to make me jump. For someone so tall, she could be very stealthy.

"Bella? You okay, hun? I've been standing here for over a minute and you looked like you were lost in space. Everything alright?"

I felt like an idiot. "I'm fine, just thinking," I replied, praying she wouldn't question any further. "How can I help you?" I managed to force a smile to accompany my question.

"I need you to come to my classroom. Nothing's wrong," she said quickly, anticipating my question, "I just need you to see something."

I was both intrigued by her cryptic attitude and thankful for the distraction. I trailed behind her until we entered her classroom. She did not speak; instead, she pointed towards her desk and waited for me to react.

"What on Earth?"

"It's a microcentrifuge - a really good one, actually. I've wanted one for a while, but it's not something I _need_, and they are super expensive. That's not the weirdest part though. It came with this." She handed me a small envelope. I opened it and extracted the card inside.

"Read it," Alice commanded.

I nodded and began to read.

_Dr. Brandon,_

_Please accept this as a token of reparation for my behavior towards you last week. I apologize if my comments were perceived as censorious and I hope that this will prove beneficial in your instructional endeavors._

_Respectfully, _

_Dr. E. Masen_

"So," she asked, both her eyebrows and her voice high, "what's that all about?"

"It's an apology - I think."

"It's not a very good one." Alice took the card from my hand and glared at it. "'I apologize _if_ my comments were perceived as censorious?' He's not apologizing for saying it, he's saying he's sorry if my delicate baby feelings got hurt, plus he's implying that I need this thing in order to teach. It's a nice piece of equipment, but not essential - it's not even useful for my lower-level students. I have half a mind to go throw the damn thing at him." Alice dropped into her seat with a huff. She reached out and touched the box, almost caressing the label. "It is a nice centrifuge, though."

I laughed at the forlorn look on her face. "Keep the centrifuge, Alice. It's an apology; don't read too much into it. He's trying to be nice. He's just not good at it."

Alice goggled at me. "On Friday, you were ready to strangle the man, now you're telling me to give him a break? Did you have a near death experience or something?"

"No, nothing like that, I just think -"

"Isabella Marie Swan, are you _blushing_?"

I brought my hands up to my cheeks and, sure enough, I felt the telltale heat there.

"I'm not blushing, it's just warm in here. Plus, I think I might be coming down with something." I tried to distract her with her new toy. "So, do we need to order some tubes for that centrifuge?"

She narrowed her eyes and studied me for a moment. "You aren't fooling me, Bella, but I'll let it go - for now, anyway." She reached down and produced a large bag from beneath her desk. "To answer your question - no, we don't need to order any. The package included a thousand tubes."

"Nice. At least he plans ahead."

"I'll say. I don't know how he even managed to get it here so fast. Last time I checked, it took a few days to get these shipped. I wonder when he ordered it?" she asked, ripping through the packing tape on the box with a pair of scissors.

I wondered the same thing, but I wasn't about to speculate in case it led to more uncomfortable questions. "Hey Alice, I'm going to head back. The bell's about to ring for first period."

"See you later," she replied, while happily perusing the manual that came with the centrifuge. She didn't look up, but her next words shot directly through me. "Don't think I am going to forget about your strange behavior, young lady. We'll talk later. Bye!"

_Great_, I thought with an internal groan. _All I need is Alice trying to figure out what's going on in my head when I don't even know._

Throughout the day, I got emails from my colleagues regarding apology notes and gifts from Edward Masen. Angela got a signed hardcover of _The Sound and the Fury _and a class set of paperback copies_. _Lauren got every season of _History's Mysteries_ on DVD and a new rosary that she described as 'almost too beautiful to pray with.' Mike came to see me just before lunch in high dudgeon. Edward gave him five color-coordinated warm-up outfits with matching jackets and pants along with a new pitching machine. The combination of his pale, skinny legs and the yellow shorts he wore made him look like a chicken, and I thought I might bite a hole in my cheek from restraining my mirth as he protested that shorts were far more practical for teaching P.E. Finally, he left the room in a huff, and I allowed myself to laugh until tears streamed down my face.

My near-hysteria was interrupted by a student knocking on my door. I motioned for her to enter, and she came in, carrying a large white paper bag.

"What's up, Makenna?" I gasped as I tried to get myself under control.

"Ms. Swan, this was delivered for you in the office, they asked me to bring it down for you." She sat the bag on my desk and smiled as I signed her hall pass. "I'm sorry to be nosy, but can I ask you what it is? It smells amazing."

"I don't know, but I'll look." I pulled open the staples that held the bag closed and was immediately assaulted with a delicious smell. Looking down into the bag, I saw several plastic containers.

"It looks like ... I think it's lunch." Puzzled, I removed the three containers and opened each one in turn to find a Greek salad, a panini stuffed with meat, cheese, and vegetables, and -

"Pie!" I exclaimed. "Chocolate pie!"

"That looks awesome, Ms. Swan. Looks like somebody likes you." She grinned again and turned to leave the classroom. "Nice blush," she said over her shoulder as she departed.

I checked in the bag again to see if there was a note, and indeed, there was. I tore open the small envelope and removed the note card inside. It read simply:

_Please enjoy with my compliments, Dr. E. Masen_

Now I faced my most difficult decision of the day - should I eat the pie first, or save it for later?

_~*~ pc ~*~_

I was packing up to leave for the day, pondering whether I should carry a set of labs home to grade, when I heard a throat clear. I looked up to find Edward standing in my doorway.

"Ms. Swan? May I - am I interrupting you?"

"No, of course not, come on in." I stood and stretched a bit. "How can I help you, Edward?"

"It's Doctor - sorry." He looked down at his feet, his face twisted unhappily.

"What's up, Doctor Sorry?"

He looked up at me and returned my smirk with a rueful smile and a chuckle. "I guess I deserve that."

"It does seem rather fitting after today," I replied. "Have a seat, Doctor. I'll even let you have a good chair." I gestured towards my desk chair, but he shook his head.

"I wouldn't dare." He pulled a lab stool over closer to my desk and perched on it. His long legs almost reached the floor, and his black pants were short enough to reveal several inches of white leg above his socks.

"Why do you do that?" I blurted, without thinking.

"Do what?" He regarded me with a puzzled expression, and I felt my face heat for the third time that day. I was not normally a blusher, and I found I didn't enjoy it.

"Wear pants that are too short." I scrambled to find words to soften my comment. "I mean, it's fine, it's not a problem or anything, it's just a little, um, odd ... ."

_That's not better! _My brain screamed. _Shut up already! _

It was apparently his turn to smirk. "It's quite alright, Miss Swan - ah, Bella. I find it rather challenging to locate pants that are long enough, and it is not enough of a priority for me to invest the time required to do so."

"Sorry," I mumbled, "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Please do not trouble yourself. I believe that is the kind of question friends can ask each other."

"Friends?" The word came out as a question, and I raised both eyebrows in surprise.

He looked away as he spoke. "I hope so, Miss - Bella. I would like us ... to be friends. Only if you are amenable, of course."

I was suddenly reminded of the scene in Legally Blonde when Reese Witherspoon's character thinks her boyfriend is about to propose and tells him she is 'fully amenable to that discussion.' I shook my head to clear the thought and, unfortunately, Edward chose that moment to look back at me and interpreted my shaking head as a rejection.

"Oh. I see. I am sorry to have inconvenienced you, Miss Swan." He slid off the stool and was halfway to the door by the time I could stop him.

"Edward - Doctor Masen - stop, please!" I sprinted after him and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. He turned to face me and the sadness on his face was almost more than I could take. "I didn't mean it like that. Something popped into my head - it doesn't matter. Come back and sit down, please?"

He contemplated me for a moment and then to my relief, he came back and sat back down in the stool.

"I'm sorry. That was just epically bad timing on my part. I would like for us to be friends, Edward."

"Really?" He looked like he didn't trust me, and I couldn't blame him.

"Really. I'm so sorry."

"Doctor Sorry?" he asked, with a ghost of a smile.

"Well, I'm not buying anybody any centrifuges ..." I smiled back at him. "What was that all about, anyway?"

"You told me to apologize," he said with a shrug. "I apologized."

"Edward," I said, shaking my head, "an apology is 'Hey, I'm sorry, let me buy you a beer." What you did was 'Hey, I'm sorry, let me buy you a car.' It was a little much, don't you think?"

"In your estimation, would any of the individuals in question have allowed me to buy them a beer if asked?" He raised one eyebrow at me.

"No," I confessed, "but it was still too much."

"Perhaps," he said with a shrug, "perhaps not. Either way, I have done my best to make amends. Were my attempts successful?"

I smiled. He looked so hopeful. Despite all his bravado, it seemed he just wanted people to like him.

"I think so. Alice was a little wary at first, but she really liked the centrifuge. She's a sucker for anything new and shiny. Lauren forgave you, of course, but that's kind of her job. Angela was thrilled. She loves Faulkner, and our school copies of that book were in pretty bad shape. Mike ..." As soon as I said his name, I trailed off into giggles.

"What happened?" I looked up at him to see a broad smile covering Edward's face, and my breath caught. The expression transformed him. He was almost ... handsome. Suddenly I couldn't remember the question.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Edward laughed at my confusion. "What happened with Coach Newton?"

"Oh, that." I took a few deep breaths and attempted to focus. "He was very upset. I got to hear a minor treatise on how teeny shorts were far more practical for teaching physical education and how he could not believe that we did not understand that, since we are scientists and all."

"I'm sorry he's upset, but I did it for the greater good." The serious expression on his face sent me into another fit of giggles.

"Like Dumbledore," I managed to squeak out. He looked confused.

"What?"

"Dumbledore? Harry Potter? The greater good?" I shook my head. "Never mind."

"Is that the book with all the vampires?"

"No, it's the one about wizards. What kind of nerd are you, that you haven't read Harry Potter?"

His face hardened. "Are you calling me a nerd, Miss Swan?"

I tried to take him seriously, but it was impossible. "Um, Edward, have you met yourself? Of course I am."

His expression cracked a bit, and it looked like he was trying to hide a smile. "If ever the expression 'it takes one to know one' were true, Miss Swan, this would be that moment."

"Did you just make a joke?" I brought my hand to my chest and gasped in mock astonishment. "Are you okay? Would you like to lie down? I know it can hurt the first time."

"Do you think you're funny, Bella?" he asked, trying - and mostly failing - not to smile.

"Nope. I know I'm funny." I gave him my best cheesy grin and he finally broke and smiled back at me.

"Did you enjoy your lunch?" I was a bit taken aback at the abrupt shift in subject, and it took me a moment to respond.

"I did, it was wonderful. Thank you. You already apologized to me, though."

"I know, but I wanted to do something nice for you, too. That reminds me - the reason I originally came over - are you preparing to leave?"

"I was packing up when you came in, why do you ask?"

"I have something else for you, but it is quite heavy - may I walk out to your car with you? It's in my classroom." He gestured towards the doorway."

"Edward, you don't have to get me anything." I was starting to blush again, and I willed my skin to calm down.

"It's not for you, it's for your snake," he replied. "Surely you wouldn't deny Rufus a gift, would you?"

I sighed. He had managed to find my weakness. "I suppose not. Are you ready to go right now?"

"Yes, just give me a moment. Join me in the hallway?" I nodded at he stood up and slid his stool back in place under the table.

A few minutes later, he emerged from his classroom carrying a box. Neither of us mentioned it as we walked towards the parking lot. All I could think about was the fact that seventy-two hours prior, we had been standing in this same spot while I screamed at him, and I was suddenly overcome with guilt.

"Edward, I am so, so sorry for what happened on Friday. It was unprofessional of me and - "

"Bella," he said, cutting me off as he laid the box down on the top of my car. "Please stop."

"But, I -"

"Bella." He walked around the car and took my hand, taking me completely off guard. "We've had this conversation. We both were in the wrong; we're both sorry, now we need to move forward. Friends, right?"

We stood there for a moment, staring at each other, and I was alarmed at the way my body was reacting. My heartbeat was elevated, my breathing was too fast, and I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks once again. After a few seconds, I pulled away from his hand and forced a little laugh.

"Friends. Right. Sorry." I choked out another laugh and tried to ignore his bemused expression as he watched me. "So, what's in the box?"

He began to walk around the front of the car to the passenger side. I walked around the back to give myself a moment. I was really going to have to look into cardiopulmonary disorders when I got home.

"May I put the box in your passenger seat? It really is rather heavy." I nodded and unlocked the door so he could place the box in the car. He opened up the top flaps and extracted what looked like a large rock. I saw it was partially hollow.

"You got him a new hide! That's so nice of you!" I examined the little cave as he held it. "It's really beautiful. He'll love it."

"I noticed that he only had one, and I thought he might like another."

"Yeah, he outgrew his old one and I haven't replaced it yet." I took the structure from him and replaced it in the box. "Thank you, Edward. I appreciate it."

"You are welcome, Miss Swan." It seemed to be his turn to blush. "I will see you tomorrow?"

"Yep."

We stood there beside my car for a moment that felt like a century. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was about to hug me, but then the moment passed and he walked away towards his vehicle.

I got in my car and looked over at the box holding Rufus's new furniture, then looked at the back of the man crossing the parking lot. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked so alone. Suddenly, I felt inexplicably sad.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, alerting, etc. Every email alert thrills my soul!

Happy Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Solstice, Yule, and New Year!

Two recommendations this week – The Note by Lady Gwynedd – it's delightful and bite-sized. Also delightful (and just completed!) is Sleep on the Floor by sexycereal. Read and enjoy!

Until next time, may your life be blessed and full of love!


	8. Exaptation

Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Unbeta'd. Any errors are solely mine.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Exaptation - A structure that evolves and functions in one environmental context but that can perform additional functions when placed in some new environment._

"Coral Cove tonight?" I looked up to see the face of Angela Webber poking through my door.

"Any special occasion?"

"Not really. It's supposed to be warm this evening, and I know everyone has had a hard couple of weeks, so Ben suggested a little quality Coral Cove time. You in?"

"Sure."

Should I invite ... y'know?" She moved her head to indicate the room across the hall from me.

"If you want to." I shrugged and gave thanks that my room was dimly lit at that moment. I didn't need one more person noticing my sudden tendency to turn various shades of red at the mere mention of Doctor McSmartypants. I was beginning to investigate allergy-related rosacea as a possible explanation.

"I think I might. We had an interesting conversation in the copy room the other day about stream-of-consciousness versus traditional storytelling in literature. He's not so bad. Think he'll come?"

I shrugged and waited for her to leave the room before I allowed my forehead to drop to my desk.

Doctor Edward Masen was ruining my life.

I expected drama. I had been mentally prepared to deal with lots of scenarios: kids running amok in his classroom - or better yet, down the hallways - uncontrollable noise, fighting, shattering glassware, even a fire. Every new teacher cries at least once during their first week. I'd anticipated having Edward in my classroom in tears by Wednesday at the latest.

I never could have prepared for how smoothly everything had gone, and not just during his first week. After three full weeks of teaching it appeared that all my dire predictions about Edward's ineptitude and ultimate failure were completely wrong.

It wasn't all perfect, of course. There had been lots of rumbling amongst the students about him, and much of it wasn't good. They mostly thought he was boring and stuffy; fortunately they also thought he was intimidating, which explained the lack of behavior problems. Several kids had come to be complaining about his use of 'big words,' after which I advised them to discontinue bemoaning his perspicacious use of discourse. I thought I was hilarious. They did not find me quite as amusing.

I could not get the infuriating man out of my head. Every morning I stopped by his classroom to see if he was prepared; he was still using my plans, after all. Each time I found him seated at his desk, head bent over his computer. He would look up at my greeting, nod courteously, assure me of his well-being, and resume his studious posture.

There had been no more gifts, and he had never again stopped by my classroom to walk me to my car.

I couldn't stop thinking about him, and my traitorous brain was going to drive itself insane.

He said he wanted to be friends. I was sure I hadn't made that up. So what was his deal?

I was caught off guard by the bell ringing, followed by a trickle of students coming in my door. I had wasted the whole morning obsessing about stupid Edward Masen, and hadn't even realized time was passing. Now I'd be scrambling the rest of the day.

Fabulous.

Class after class passed, and I couldn't get my head out of its preoccupied fog. I skipped lunch to try to catch up on some of the work I'd failed to accomplish that morning, and by sixth period I felt a little clearer. I could totally handle this. He was just a man, and I had never once let one of those mess up my life. Why would I start now?

We were halfway through sixth period when Megan Gwynn raised her hand.

"Ms. Swan, do you smell that?" I saw some of the other students wrinkling their noses and a few lifted the collars of their shirts to cover their mouth and nose. I sniffed, and sure enough, there was something odd in the air. I picked up the black phone that hung on the wall next to my classroom door and punched in a number.

"Alice? Sorry to disrupt your class, but are you using the burners today? No? Thanks."

Well, that eliminated the usual source of this particular smell. I stood for a minute and considered. It was definitely getting stronger. My next thought was to check with Edward, but when I opened the door I was hit by a fresh wave of stench and began to cough. Quickly, I shut the door and picked up the phone again.

"This is Ms. Swan. We have an unexplained gas smell in the science wing outside my classroom. Can we get someone down here to check it out? Yes, I am taking them right now."

"Grab your stuff. We're going outside." I waited until the kids had gathered their possessions before entering the hallway again and hurrying them towards the outside door. Once I saw the last one leave I opened the door to Edward's classroom, and found absolute pandemonium.

The smell was even stronger here, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. There were kids all over the place. It looked like he had been attempting to do a lab, but it had gone terribly wrong. The noise level was deafening. I spotted Edward in the back of the room, trying desperately to get the students' attention, but they weren't responding. His tie was crooked, his normally immobile hair was standing in random spikes, and his shirt was covered in multicolored spatters and ... was that a burn?

With my best teacher face in place, I pulled out a classic trick. I reached over and flickered the lights a few times. It got enough attention for the students to see me and, more importantly, my clearly unhappy face. Their expressions fell, and they sank back into chairs.

I stood in the front of the room and glared at them for a moment before speaking.

"It appears that Mr. Masen has some instructions for you. I suggest you give him your attention." Several of them smirked, but they did not speak. Unfortunately, neither did Edward. He just stared at me hopelessly. After a few seconds he shook his head and his gaze dropped to the floor.

"Alright, everyone, as you may have noticed, we have a bit of a gas smell in the building. Just to be safe, we are going to head outside for a little while. Gather your things and -" I stopped abruptly when I saw three boys exchange glances in the back of the room.

"-actually, I think it would be better if you left your belongings here." The three faces fell, and I knew I had them. Everyone out to the field. Mr. Milton, I suggest you remove the item you just put in your pocket and place it on the desk. Now, Mr. Brooks." I grabbed Edward as he began to leave the room and hissed in his ear. "No matter what, keep those two guys apart. Don't let them talk, and _don't_ let them use their phones. Make something up if you have to." He nodded and trailed after his students.

"Mr. Weston! Just the man I needed!" I pinched the sleeve of the third culprit as he attempted to slip by me. "Dr. Cullen is on his way, I was hoping you could explain to him when your class first noticed the smell."

"Um, Ms. Swan, I don't know if ... I mean, I'm sure somebody else could ..."

"Don't be silly, Blake!" I fixed him with my most cobra-like gaze and grinned broadly. "I'm sure you are _exactly_ who Dr. Cullen would like to hear from."

He coughed once. "Shouldn't we go outside, Ms. Swan?"

I grinned at him more broadly. "Not feeling well, Blake? I'm sorry. You're right, let's go outside. You be sure to stick right by me though, since you are having trouble." He sighed and we headed out the door.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Two hours, multiple interrogations, and three suspensions later, I was pondering life in the private sector - or at least a beach vacation. I briefly considered backing out of going to Coral Cove, but Angela was right; it had been a hard week - a hard few weeks, actually - and I needed some down time. This was likely the last weekend it would be warm enough to enjoy Coral Cove before next spring, and besides, I had promised Edward.

I heard the group before I saw them, as I pushed through the gate into Angela and Ben's lush backyard.

"Bella!" Angela's voice rang out in greeting when I emerged into the large open space. "Bella's come to the Cove!"

She raised a bottle in my direction as others echoed her greeting. "Bella's come to the Cove!" sang a chorus of voices before each person drank in honor of my arrival.

I dropped my six-pack into the massive built-in ice chest at the edge of the deck, and gently laid the white box I carried on the table that ran along the side. It was already laden with food, and at the end I spotted my goal - the bright pink beverage dispenser that would undoubtedly contain Angela's magnificent sangria.

"I brought brownies," I said as I headed towards one of the chairs that circled a large patio table.

"Brownies!" Angela shouted, again raising her bottle, and the group followed suit, drinking again in salute of my brownies. It was a Coral Cove tradition; everyone got one toast upon their arrival, and a second in honor of their culinary offering.

"You make those brownies, Swan?"

Bree laughed at Jessica's question. "She hasn't tried to poison us yet - why would she start now?"

I accidentally-on-purpose bumped her in the head when I passed by, and everyone chuckled at her good-natured ribbing. They all knew well my lack of culinary skills.

The only empty seat was next to a rather forlorn-looking Edward. I was surprised that he actually came, since his afternoon had been even more difficult than mine. I nudged him with my elbow.

"Carlisle give you a hard time this afternoon?" Dr. Cullen had been very unhappy after the events of the day.

"No, not really. He advised me to monitor my classes very carefully from this point forward, but that was all, really. The boys all got suspended."

"I know." I took a sip of my beer and examined his expression. "You look upset."

He sighed and picked at the label on his beer bottle. "I suppose a feel rather like a failure."

"Don't," I advised. "Don't feel like a failure. You didn't bring in the stink bombs. Kids do stupid stuff. You can't blame yourself."

"But I -" His words stopped as he was interrupted by Angela.

"Oh, Edward, you should hear some of the stuff that's happened to us. You aren't the only one who has had a hard time."

"I cried every day of my first year," offered Jessica Stanley. "Every single day. I thought I'd go broke buying tissues."

"Rose had a kid break her chalk into teeny little pieces," I added. "We all worried she was going to have a stroke."

Bree started to chuckle. "Tell him about the limitations of paper, Angela." We all giggled, and Edward looked mystified.

Angela smirked. "I had this girl a few years ago who was very sweet, but, ah ... let's say she was a few pancakes short of a stack. On the day I handed out midterms, she called me over to her desk and asked why she had an F. I pointed out to her that she had three zeros because she was missing assignments. She asked if she could turn in the missing work, and I told her she could, so she dug them out of her notebook and turned put them in the tray for her class."

"You allowed her to turn in work after its due date?" Edward asked with a scowl.

"Soooo not the point, Doctor Newbie. Just wait," Angela snickered. "A few minutes later, she raised her hand again. I went over to her and she gestured to the midterm and said 'Ms. Webber, why do I have an F?' I thought it was a little odd, but I explained again that she had an F because she was missing three assignments, and so she had three zeros. She then turned to me and said 'but I turned those in!'"

"What?" Edward asked. A little furrow of confusion appeared between his eyebrows, and I resisted the urge to smooth it away with my finger.

"Yep. I told her that yes, she did turn them in, but they hadn't been recorded yet, so her grade hadn't changed. She seemed to accept that and went back to her work. Five minutes later, though-"

The group let out a groan.

Angela waved at us dismissively. "Shut up. Anyway, five minutes later, she raised her hand again. I went over and asked her how I could help her, and she said 'Ms. Webber, why do I have an F?' She had tears in her eyes and everything."

"You're making this up," Edward stated. "No one is that unable to reason."

I sputtered, nearly spiting out my sip of beer. "Edward, trust me, we can't make this shit up. Now be quiet and let her finish."

"Anyway," Angela continued, "I was like, 'sweetheart, we've discussed this. You have an F because you have three zeros.' She got mad then, and yelled at me that she had turned the work in. I asked her when she turned it in, and she said 'just now. You saw me turn it in, Ms. Webber,' all looking at me like I was stupid. So I asked her if she had seen me grade the paper, or record the paper. Of course, she said no. I asked her if I had printed her a new midterm, and she said no. So I told her that's why she still had an F."

"Did she finally understand after that?"

"You would think she would, but, sure enough, five minutes later, she called me over and asked why she had an F."

"What did you do?"

Angela snorted. "I sent her to guidance and told her to ask them."

Even though most of us had heard the story a thousand times, we roared with laughter, all except Edward, who looked puzzled.

"Was the child ... was she... was she somehow unwell?" he asked, his face a mask of confusion. The group laughed even harder at his reaction, and Jessica patted him on the back.

"Not all of us can be super-geniuses, you know, Edward."

"And some of us," offered Bree, "make rocks look brilliant."

He still looked puzzled, but before I could say anything I heard my name.

"Bella!" Jessica was smirking in my direction. "Tell him about, you know ... unknown lab equipment safety."

I felt my face flush. "I'm sure he's heard enough stories for one-"

"Whatever, Swan, tell the damn story already." Jessica's grin was wicked as she chided me.

"All right." I sighed and turned to face Edward directly. A few years ago, during my second year teaching, we had a Physics teacher who had a baby during the summer, so when she came back to school she had to - well, she pumped in her classroom during her planning period and at lunch."

Edward pursed his lips and nodded, but seemed to be avoiding my eyes. I took a deep breath and continued narrating the most horrifying event of my career.

"Mrs. Clearwater asked me if I could monitor her class for a few minutes while she went to return a phone call from a parent. When I went into the classroom, they were working on a worksheet on momentum. All have had to do was walk around, answer questions, and make sure no one got in trouble. Pretty soon, though, I found out that she had a wanderer."

"What's a wanderer? Is that the colloquial name for some kind of reptile?" Edward's question took me off guard, and I giggled.

"Nope. It's a kid who can't stay in his seat - a kid that wanders the room."

"I see," he replied, with a brisk nod. "Please continue."

"No only did he wander, he touched things. I spent the first ten minutes I was there telling him to put things away and sit down. I didn't know anyone else's name, but I learned his pretty quickly. 'Jason, put that down. Jason, stay in your seat. Jason, you may not play with the roller coaster model. Jason, get your hand out of the fishtank.' You get the idea?"

Edward nodded solemnly, clearly intrigued with where this story was going.

"I stopped to answer a question from one of the other kids, and when I looked up I saw that Jason had wandered up behind Mrs. Clearwater's desk and pulled the dish towel off the little drainboard where she kept all of her pump parts after she washed them."

Horror began to bloom across Edward's face as I continued. "Before I could say anything, he picked up the, um, funnel-shaped part of the pump, looked at it for a moment, and put it over his face." I paused for dramatic effect. "Then

he stuck his tongue in it."

I ignored the squeals of disgust and laughter around me and focused on Edward's face. It was redder than I had ever seen it, and I suddenly hated Jessica for bringing the story up. I considered letting the story end there, but he asked "What did you do?"

"I looked over at him and said, 'Jason, you do know that's Mrs, Clearwater's breast pump, right?' He dropped it like it was on fire, and the whole class lost it. People actually fell out of their seats laughing. About that time, Mrs. Clearwater walked in to find chaos - kids on the floor, Jason behind her desk, and me nearly in hysterics.

Edward's expression was completely bank, and for a moment I thought I might have completely offended him with my story. That is, until he began to chuckle.

It was a beautiful sound, and it startled everyone into stunned silence for a few seconds. He threw his head back and roared with laughter, and suddenly the tension shattered and we all joined in.

After such a stressful, exhausting few weeks the release felt amazing. Soon there were tears streaming down my face, but I barely noticed until I felt a gentle finger wipe them from my cheek. I turned to see Edward much closer than he had been before.

"Suddenly a little stink bomb doesn't seem so bad," he whispered. "Thank you."

I nodded and, feeling unexpectedly shy, stood to get another drink and a brownie.

After more stories and jovial ribbing, the party began to wind down, and people started making their way to their respective vehicles. Tomorrow was school again, after all, and that meant an early morning and a long day for all of us. After bidding everyone goodbye and gathering the remains of the brownies, I felt a presence close behind me.

"May I walk you to your vehicle, Miss Swan?"

That odd shyness crashed over me again like a wave, and I nodded silently. He reached for my box of leftovers before I could protest, and we meandered wordlessly to my car. His was parked at the curb right in front of mine.

I fumbled with my keys and dropped them to the ground.

"Are you sure you are sober enough to drive, Bella?" His concerned voice felt like a caress on the back of my neck, and I dropped the keys again.

"I'm fine." I giggled, and my voice felt unnaturally shrill. "Just tired and clumsy." On my third attempt, I finally managed to open the door, and turned to face him. His face was all dark angles in the dim light from inside my car. "I'm glad you could make it tonight." I cleared my throat, desperately trying to relieve the tightness I felt there. "Did you have a good time?"

He reached behind me to place the brownie box on my passenger seat, and the movement brought him even closer. "I did. It was quite pleasant."

"Good," I squeaked. _I really_ _must look into vocal cord disorders_, I thought frantically, before his voice interrupted my slightly manic musings.

"Miss Swan," he said, and cleared his throat while taking a step back. Maybe my weird larynx problem was contagious. "I would like to - that is, if it is appropriate - as a thank you for - you've helped me so much, I - would you care to - that is, may I, um, may I take you to dinner? This weekend, perhaps?"

It became immediately apparent to me that the concentration of oxygen in the atmosphere had experienced a sudden drop, or perhaps I was having a paroxysm of the alveoli. Either way, breathing was an issue. The lack of oxygen certainly explained the ringing in my ears and the heat I felt spread outward from my ears, not to mention my accelerated heart rate.

"I suppose - I mean, I don't really - I'm kind of -" the sadness that crossed his features at my stammered rejection nearly stopped my pounding heart, and disabled my verbal filter.

"Would I have to call you Doctor Masen?" I closed my eyes in humiliation, but opened them again at the sound of his strangely melodic chuckle.

"You can call me anything you like, Miss Swan."

The past few weeks passed in a flash through my mind - his arrogance, Alice weeping in my classroom, the expensive centrifuge, Rufus's favorite new rock hide, chocolate pie, the sound of his ringing laughter on Angela's porch. The image of him on my couch, disheveled and vulnerable, settled in my mind.

"Sure, Edward. Okay."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

First of all, thank you so much to those who have waited so patiently for this update. I apologize for the delay. Please understand that had any of what happened over the past year and a half been under my control, things would have been very different.

I don't want to broadcast my life on the internet, but I feel I owe an explanation to anyone who has been disappointed by the lack of updates on this story. The short version is that a series of illnesses knocked my life for a pretty serious loop, and I am just now getting things back under control. I would much rather have been writing than lying on a doctor's cot desperately fighting to breathe, but that was my unfortunate reality for a long time. Those of you who have chronic illnesses, or family members who do, I have a whole new appreciation for what you deal with, and I admire your strength.

I love this story, and I plan to finish it. I won't make promises about a posting schedule, but I am going to do my best to update regularly.

Finally, a recommendation. I know I am late to the party, but I just read Paper Cutouts by astilbe13, and wow. Her Edward is one of the best I have encountered. I loved every second of the story. Go read it if you haven't yet.

Thanks for your support!


	9. Premature Apoptosis

Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. This goofy little story is mine. I didn't write Gulliver's Travel's, either.

I own all the misplaced commas .

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Premature Apoptosis – Malfunction of the normal genetically controlled self-destruction of cells. May be related to genetic abnormality or environmental stimuli. _

This was never going to work.

Edward would be here to pick me up in thirteen minutes, and I was a giant sweaty frizzball mess with only ugly clothes, all of which were currently strewn halfway across my apartment. Those would need to be picked up before he arrived, right after I calmed down my hair and got a face transplant.

I stopped pacing, took a deep breath, pressed a paper towel to my forehead, and considered my options.

I could cancel.

I could go as I was. Not a great option, since restaurants - and society in general - tend to frown upon pajama pants and sports bras in public.

I could delay.

I could cancel.

He would understand. He only asked me out as a way to say thank you, after all. I'd tell him Rufus was sick and he could just send a thank you card like the rest of the civilized world. That way I could stay in my pajama pants and spend the evening on my couch contemplating my complete failure to function as an adult woman.

I'd never been this stressed about any of the dates Alice set me up on. Somehow this was different. Every time I thought about Edward coming to pick me up in nine minutes, my heart started to race and I began perspiring anew. I made a mental note to research symptoms of early menopause.

Nine minutes!

The angry glare of the clock made my decision for me. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts to Edward's number. At least I had the social skills to know it was rude to cancel by text message.

It was ringing. Ringing, ringing ... What was that odd sound outside my door?

_Crap._

I chanced a look through my peephole. Sure enough, there stood Edward, gazing at his phone.

I hit end, took a deep breath, and opened the door just wide enough that I could speak to him.

"Edward?"

He looked up from his phone, clearly startled at the sound of my voice.

"Miss Swa - ah, Bella?" He reached out to push the door, then reconsidered and dropped his hand.

"Hi. Um, so, I'm not ready." I huffed a breath up towards my damp forehead, making my bangs jump.

"I apologize. I am early." He dropped his gaze to his shoes. "I can wait out here, if you like, until the prescribed time?"

I sighed. "I won't be ready then either. Here's what we'll do. I am going to unlock the door. You recite the periodic table, then come on in and have a seat, okay?"

He looked earnestly at my face, and nodded. "I understand. I apologize again for interrupting your preparations."

"Don't be sorry, just recite slowly." He nodded again, and I quickly closed the door, dashed madly around the room picking up the scattered clothes, and dove for my bedroom.

_Deep breaths, Swan. _

When I emerged twenty minutes later, dressed and moderately de-frizzed, I found Edward perched on the sofa talking to himself - or perhaps to Rufus, whose head hovered near the glass of his cage, following Edward's movements. I ducked quickly back behind my doorframe when I heard what he was saying.

"Are you having a good weekend?

"Did you see the new study about using engineered antibodies to enhance the function of traditional cancer treatments?"

"What do you think about the invasive lionfish that is moving up the eastern coast?"

"No, no cancer or invasive species. Too depressing." He took a deep breath and straightened his back. "What are your thoughts on the current research in epigenetics? Interesting ramifications for evolutionary theory, don't you think? Better. Better."

I stifled a giggle. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who was feeling a little nervous.

"Sorry to make you wait," I announced just before I re-emerged. He stood and smoothed the front of his pants.

"It is quite alright," he replied with a stiff smile. "You look quite nice. Lovely, I mean. You look lovely. Shall we go?"

"Do you want a drink or something first? I'm sorry, I should have offered one while you were waiting."

"No thank you. I- I mean, we have a reservation for seven-thirty."

After locking the door, I trailed him down the stairs to the parking lot, where he opened the door to an immaculate dark blue sedan.

"Nice car," I commented. "I don't know anything about cars, really, but it has that yummy new car smell."

He chuckled. "It's a Volvo S60. The insurance institute for highway safety rated it a top safety pick.

I pulled at the seatbelt, but it wouldn't budge. "It would be safer if the seatbelt worked," I observed.

"I'm sorry, you are the first to sit in that seat." He leaned over to try and help just as the belt gave way to my tugging.

"Ow!"

"Shit!" I held my hand to the now-throbbing spot on my forehead, and glanced over to see Edward doing the same. "Sorry," I offered, sheepishly. "I guess it works after all."

"Indeed." Edward closed his eyes, his whole face creasing with pain. "Thank goodness for hard skulls and cerebro-spinal fluid."

"Indeed." I giggled at his words. "We would want anything to happen to that PhD brain of yours, now would we?"

"Nor yours." He pulled my hand away from my head and examined the spot. "Are you all right? There does not seem to be a bruise forming."

"I'm okay, I think ." I winced a bit. "I have a hard head."

He chuckled. "I noticed. Shall we try again?"

"Hold on." I made an exaggerated show of pulling out the seatbelt and fastening it at my side. "Okay, go for it."

The car purred to life and the air was suddenly filled with soft classical music.

"You are welcome to change the music if you like," he offered, gesturing to the XM controls on the dash. "The subscription is a bit wasted on me. I don't have very broad tastes, I'm afraid."

"No, this is fine. Poulenc?"

"Indeed. You listen to classical music?"

I found myself slightly annoyed at his tone of surprise. "I listen to a lot of things," I replied stiffly. "I have rather broad tastes, myself."

He didn't respond, and we drove on, the music barely masking the awkward silence between us. After a short while, he pulled smoothly into a parking space in front of an elegant brick building.

"Have you ever been to Twilight?" he asked as he turned off the engine. "It has received excellent reviews. Their chef is reported to be one of the best in the area."

"Nope." I wondered briefly if I should wait for him to open my door, but decided he wasn't really the type. "I'm more of a Chinese takeout girl, usually."

I was right, he didn't come around to open my door, but instead waited for me on the sidewalk, and walked just behind me into the entrance, held open by a handsomely dressed doorman.

"Does anything look interesting?" he asked, as we perused the menu. It was much smaller than I had anticipated, and all of the food descriptions sounded a little too complex for my tastes. Plus, there were no prices. That never bode well.

"Um, it all looks really, uh ... gourmet. Is this the kind of food you normally eat?" I chose a dish at random. "Heirloom albacore tartar with tossed bitter herbs and Gorgonzola aioli, served over a bed of maple risotto ... hand-cut smoke-cured prosciutto with figs and baked wasabi lentils? Is this even real food?" I laughed, but he didn't seem to see the humor.

"The chef is very highly rated," he replied, sounding sullen. "I am certain the food is excellent."

Our water glasses arrived, and as I took a sip, I saw Edward wince slightly and touch his forehead.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "That was a pretty hard hit in the car."

"Mmm." He rubbed his forehead gingerly. "Quite. Do you, by chance, have any enseds with you? Perhaps in your purse?"

"Do I have any what? I don't think I heard you correctly."

"Enseds. Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs?"

It took a moment before I realized what he was asking for. "Oh! NSAIDS! Like, Advil? Sure!" I dug through my purse until I found the small bottle, and offered it to him.

"Thank you." He tipped two of the tablets into his palm, and swallowed them quickly.

We sat in strained silence, staring at the menus, until the waiter came to take our order. I managed to find something that looked somewhat edible. After ordering, I began to miss the pretentious menu - at least it had given us something to do. After several hundred years of gazing around the room, I finally spoke out of sheer desperation.

"So, anything else planned for tonight? Roller derby? Monster truck rally?" I wondered for a moment if there was some disease that disabled a verbal filter.

"I have tickets for a play, if you would like to accompany me after dinner," he said. "Do you enjoy the theatre?"

"Sure. What's the play?"

"Something called _Equus_. I will confess, I don't know much about it, but it has received excellent reviews. I assume from the title that the plot is somehow related to horses. Do you like horses?"

I considered for a moment. "I'm more of a reptile person, but sure, horses are great. Is that the one the kid from Harry Potter was in a few years ago?"

"Who?" He looked puzzled.

"You know, the kid who played Harry Potter in the movies - Daniel something?"

"I never saw those movies. Aren't they for children?" he asked.

"Not really," I replied, feeling defensive. "I mean, the first one is, kind of, but they rest are definitely more mature. They're really great. The books are wonderful. I'm guessing you haven't read them?"

"No, I have not."

I twisted the fabric of the napkin in my lap. Did simple conversation really have to be this difficult? "Do you like to read?"

"Of course. I recently read an excellent paper on entanglement teleportation via two-qubit channel under the non-markovian environment. It was very well researched."

I took a deep breath. "I mean, do you like to read for pleasure? I know we have to read a lot to keep current in our field. But do you read for fun?"

He looked at me as if I had sprouted a hand from my forehead. "That's quite outside of my field. I am a biochemist. Entanglement teleportation is theoretical physics."

"Ah," I said, at a momentary loss for words. "Sorry, my mistake. Sounds, um, fun. Really." I paused, scrambling desperately for something to say. "So, ah, what else do you do in your spare time? I know we don't have much of it, but you have to do something to relax or you go crazy, you know?"

"I suppose." He was silent for a moment. "I enjoy puzzles."

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn't. After a too-long pause, I asked, "what kind of puzzles? Jigsaw puzzles?"

"Not really. Jigsaw puzzles do not require very much effort. I enjoy number puzzles, and logic games. It is important to keep one's mind sharp."

"Hm." I wasn't sure how else to reply without sounding like an idiot.

We were granted a temporary reprieve by the arrival of the food; the very tiny food.

"Hey, look! The chef graduated top of his class from the Lilliputian Institute!" I giggled at my own joke.

"What?" Edward looked from me to the food, and back to me. "Is the food funny, somehow?"

"Lilliputian? Lilliput? Gulliver? Little ... nevermind."

He looked at the food again. "I'm sorry, I don't understand your joke. Would you explain it to me, please?"

"It's not funny if I have to explain it, Edward."

His head dropped. "I know." He gazed down at his plate for a long moment, before he looked back up at me, desperation in his eyes. "Explain it anyway?"

"Okay," I sighed. "Did you read Gulliver's Travels in school?"

A wrinkle appeared between his brows. "I do not believe so. Is it a biography?"

"No," I chuckled. "It's a novel, written by Jonathan Swift."

"Ah." He shook his head. "I did not read it, then. My father did not allow me to read fiction."

"Oh, Edward. No fiction, ever? Not even classics? Shakespeare? Nothing?"

He shook his head once more. "No, nothing."

"Forget the joke. It was dumb."

"Bella, please?" The desperation in his voice struck me. For some reason, he really wanted to understand my ridiculous comment.

"Okay." I racked my brain for details. Truthfully, I didn't remember much more of the story than was required to make the earlier joke, but I hated to look ignorant in front of Dr. Edward Masen, PhD.

"There's this guy named Gulliver, and he travels on a sea voyage. He goes to all these weird places, and one of them is called Lilliput. All of the people who live there, the Lilliputians, are really tiny. It's a political satire, I think."

"Ah, so your mention of the Lilliputian Institute is in reference to the size of the food, as if the chef went to a culinary school founded by tiny people?"

"Yes." I raised my hands to my flushed cheeks. "It wasn't very funny."

"On the contrary, that is very droll. Quite clever. I apologize that my ignorance ruined the joke."

The dinner was delicious, despite it's size, but except for a few random comments, every attempt at conversation was stillborn. After he paid the check - I didn't dare look - we walked a few blocks over to a small theatre to see the play.

That play.

I'm sure Edward meant well when he bought the tickets. He said he figured the play was about horses. I went in expecting something sweet, maybe a musical about a girl who falls in love with a stableboy or something.

I also went into the theatre thinking it was impossible for the evening to get any more uncomfortable.

On both counts, I was very, very wrong.

There were indeed horses. There was also onstage full frontal nudity, aka the fastest and easiest way to up the ante on first date horror.

I was actually a little jealous when the horses were blinded. I'd wanted to stab my eyes out for the past twenty minutes.

Vast oceans of silence stretched between us as he drove me home and pulled to the curb in front of my building. I cleared my throat, a little nervous that the sound might somehow damage the space-time continuum. When nothing tragic happened, I dared to speak

"Thanks for dinner, Edward. The play, too. It was - it was an, um, an educational evening."

"Indeed." He paused, and inhaled deeply. "Would you perhaps like to -"

"Edward," cut him off. "I think maybe, well, this might not have been the best idea ever. We have to work together, and I'm sort of your boss. You're an okay guy, and it's nothing personal, but I don't think we really have very much in common. We should probably just be friends, don't you think?"

An expression crossed his face that might have been pain, but it was difficult to read in the dim light cast by the street lamps above the car. He took a deep breath before he replied.

"Friends. Yes, certainly. I'm sure that is a wise decision." His hands gripped the wheel tightly. "So, I shall see you on Monday?"

"Sure. I'll see you then. Do you have any questions about what we are doing next week?"

"No, it is quite simple. I am sure I will be fine."

"Okay." I opened the door and grabbed my purse from the floor. "Have a good day tomorrow."

"You too. Goodnight, Bella."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Thanks so much for all of your reviews, and your kind wishes for my recovery. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

What was your worst date ever? Click the button and tell me about it!


	10. Abyssal Zone

Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Comma splices are all mine.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Abyssal zone – The deepest part of the ocean where there is no light. _

"Bella? Bella?"

Fingers snapped in my field of vision. I blinked, and my eyes focused on a puzzled Angela.

"Bella, are you okay? You went all zombie for a minute."

"I'm fine," I mumbled, and focused my gaze away from the scene being played out across the room and down at my notes.

My life had gone to hell.

In the two weeks since our date, Edward had been very ... friendly. He said good morning every day, goodbye in the afternoon, and at lunch, he asked me how my day was going. With each exchange, I was struck by the contrast between the shy warmth of his smile and hesitant eyes I saw when he looked at me, and the genuine grin that emerged as he joked with Alice over his tuna salad and crackers. Once she got past the poor evaluation he gave her, they discovered an odd super-genius camaraderie that often manifested itself with the two of them giggling over jokes that no one else understood. I could only assume that was the case at the moment, as she cackled loud enough to draw the attention of the entire faculty meeting.

To add to my discomfort, I had begun to feel an odd twisting in my gut every time I saw the two of them laughing together, or when I heard him speak one of his three daily greetings. I was researching exotic parasites as a possible cause. I found it a little odd that the phenomenon only occurred in his presence, but I was certain that was just happenstance correlation.

"Bella!"

Once again I looked into Angela's bemused face.

"You are a real space cadet today. Have you come up with anything yet?" She blew a quick puff of air up toward her face, making her bangs jump. "It's four thousand degrees in here, and I would like to go home eventually."

I shook my head. "Remind me what we're doing?"

She groaned. "Beeel-laaaa, where have you been? We're supposed to be brainstorming ways to incorporate 'creative movement' and 'artistic expression' into multiple-choice testing in math and science." Her fingers came up into air quotes around both "creative movement" and "artistic expression."

"Oh, yeah. That." I felt as if my sigh came all the way from my toes. "Why, again?"

She giggled. "Because that guy -" she indicated the tiny, gray-haired, tweed-clad man moving around the room "-says we should. He even wrote a book about it. I suspect they are going to make us read it."

A shriek of laughter from Alice once again derailed my train of thought. Angela followed my gaze across the library.

"It seems he's funny. Who would have guessed it?"

"MmmHmm," was my oh-so brilliant response. From his seat, Edward caught my eye and smiled - a genuine smile - and he winked.

He winked!

Before I could react, Carlisle stood and called the room to attention.

"Let's all thank Doctor Evans for coming to speak with us today," he said. Professor Tweed bobbed his head and waved like a Miss America contestant in response to our perfunctory applause. I suppressed a giggle as he shuffled out of the room.

"I know you all have work to do, but we have one more matter to discuss before we dismiss," Carlisle continued. "I would like to introduce a new addition to our team. Tanya, would you please stand?" A young blond woman rose and waved to the room with a shy smile. "Everyone, this is Tanya Denali. She will be joining us as an intern in the counseling department. You'll be seeing her around, as she will be doing observations of some of our high-risk students. I'm sure you will all make her feel very welcome."

As Carlisle finished his introduction, I surreptitiously glanced over at Edward. He was gazing with rapt attention at the new girl. I directed my attention back to her. She was not only young, but very beautiful, with a heart shaped face and cascading golden curls. She was impeccably dressed in a soft wrap dress in a muted shade of sea green with a coordinated scarf and jewelry. I looked down into my lap and noticed, for the first time, a sizable ink stain on the leg of my well-worn khakis. I looked up to see him still fixated on her, and felt that odd wriggling sensation in my gut return.

_How on earth could I have picked up a tapeworm?_

_~*~ pc ~*~_

The next morning, when I arrived late, breathless, and sweating, I found none other than Edward Masen waiting outside my door.

"Good morning, Bella." He reached out and took my keys, just as the straps of my bags slipped off my shoulder and pinned my arm. "Having a difficult morning?" He easily unlocked and opened my door, then followed me into the classroom.

I blinked hard to contain the sudden moisture that filled my eyes - a result of the dry air in the building, of course - and wrestled for a moment with my bags before he reached out and took them as well.

"I'm fine, just overslept a little." I swept my hand across my forehead in an attempt to dislodge the hair I knew was stuck there, and hissed when I accidentally hit a tender patch of skin.

"Bella, are you all right? Are you injured?" Edward dropped my bags in my chair and came to where I stood, seemingly paralyzed by his presence in my classroom. I closed my eyes as gentle fingers lifted my hair to reveal the ugly mark on my forehead.

"This looks like a burn. What happened, Bella?"

"Nothing," I replied, turning my face away. "It's nothing."

"I'll be right back," he said, and quickly exited the room. I was logging into my computer when he returned and came to stand beside me again, trapping us in the small space behind my desk.

"Do you have any adverse reactions to dicyclomine?" he asked, holding up a small tube of burn ointment. I shook my head, and he once again lifted my bangs to reveal the burned skin on my forehead.

"How did you manage to burn yourself here, Bella? It doesn't look like any of your hair was damaged." He applied the ointment with butterfly-soft strokes of his fingers, and I felt gooseflesh prickle all over my body in response.

"Curling iron," I mumbled.

"What was that?" He blew on my forehead for a few seconds before releasing my hair and stepping back. "I could not understand you."

I sighed. "It's a curling iron burn, Edward."

He looked thoughtful for a moment before he replied. "I have no experience with those, but I suppose a burn is a burn, no matter the source. I hope this will be helpful." Once again he showed me the tube of ointment. "I have found that it is always a good idea to have burn medicine available in a laboratory setting."

"Yes, that's true," I replied.

He stepped away from me, but I could still feel his presence surrounding me. "You look very nice today, Bella. Is that dress new?"

My face flamed, and I blinked back moisture again. This time it had nothing to do with that morning's unfortunate encounter with the devil's hair wand. I didn't look nice - I looked like someone who tried desperately but failed to look nice. That morning, faced with an inexplicable urge, I pulled a long-forgotten dress out of my closet and blew the dust off my ancient heatstick of death. By the time I realized the dress didn't fit, it was too late to find something else to wear, and there were three other spots that needed an application of Edward's burn ointment. I gave up on mascara after realizing that raccoons weren't exactly sexy, and I was certain that perspiration had effectively removed all of my other makeup.

"Did I say something wrong?" He was once again close, too close. I couldn't look at him.

"No, it's fine, everything's fine. Just a rough morning, like you said." I pushed past him and began to set out equipment, not really paying attention to what I was doing.

"Are you doing a lab today? Can I help?" He reached over me to pick up a graduated cylinder from the open cabinet, and I jumped away, dropping a beaker in the process.

"Shit, shit, shit!" For the third time in less than ten minutes, tears filled my eyes as I surveyed the scene in my classroom. Sparkles of broken glass winked from half the floor. I fought desperately, blinking and gulping for air, but I lost the battle. A sob escaped, and then another, and another. I couldn't stop.

"Bella?" He squatted and frantically began to examine my feet and legs. "Are you hurt? Did you get cut?"

"I'm f-f-f-f-fiiiiiine," I wailed. I j-j-j-just h-h-h-have t-t-tooooo..." Another wave overtook me before I could finish the sentence. The first bell screamed, and I sobbed harder.

He gave me a helpless look before picking his way gingerly across the floor and picking up the black phone hanging next to the door. His words were barely audible over then sound of my hysteria and the rushing in my ears.

"Ms. Swan's classroom ... accident ... custodian ... Alice Brandon ... thank you." He minced his way back to me. "Don't move, Bella, help is on the way.

As if I could move. Every part of my brain had succumbed to my tears, and they had taken over like Napoleon.

I became vaguely aware of a flurry of people in the room. Edward lifted me gently and set me down in a wheelchair, where Mrs. Cope, the school nurse, began fussing over me, checking for injuries I knew weren't there. Carlisle stood in the hallway, herding a horde of curious students away from my door and into Edward's classroom. Alice appeared with a box of tissues and a wet cloth. She handed me both, and I pressed the cloth over my eyes, desperately trying to calm myself. I removed the cloth to find Carlisle crouched in front of me, his expression calm but concerned.

"Bella, can you tell me what happened? Are you injured?"

_Slow, deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Do not make your boss think you are a psychopath._

"No, I don't think I am." _In, out_. "I was already having a stressful morning, and when I dropped the beaker, I think it scared me." _In, out_. "I apologize for the disturbance, but I'm fine. I was just one of those perfect storm sort of moments, you know?" I mustered a watery smile. _In, out._ "I'll be fine, I'm sure."

He studied me for a moment before rising to his feet. "Your reassurances notwithstanding," he smiled sympathetically down at me, "I think it's best for everyone if you get some rest. Take today off and come back ready to go tomorrow, what do you say?" It was clearly not a request, but an order, and I was glad to have the easy out. Despite my brave words, the thought of facing students was enough to push me back to the edge. "Mrs. Brandon is going to take you home. A sub is on the way. We'll use your emergency lesson plans." He crouched down again and looked me in the eye. "Get some rest, Bella. Take a little down time. I need you happy and healthy, okay?"

I flushed and nodded, looking down at my lap in embarrassment.

"Bella, can you walk?" Alice's chirp interrupted my moment of humiliation. "I don't think I can carry you to my car." She giggled. "I bet Edward could, though."

"I'm fine." I pushed slowly up from the wheelchair and swayed in place, overcome by a wave of dizziness. "Sorry, head rush," I assured Alice. "Just let me get my -"

"Already got them," she said, gesturing to my bags. Let's go before the room catches on fire or something."

The drive home felt shorter than normal, and when Alice pulled up in front of the building, I sighed at the thought of hauling myself up the two flights of stairs to my apartment. I was startled by a tapping on my window.

"Come on, boss, let's get you inside." Jasper had opened the passenger door and pulled me up and out of Alice's low-slung car.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, puzzled at his appearance.

He chuckled. "We'll talk in the house. Come on."

Momentarily, I was in my apartment and settled on the sofa, Rufus snuggled around my body. Alice and Jasper perched on the chairs across from me with expectant looks on their faces.

"Spill, Swan," Jasper said with a slow grin.

"Yeah, Bella, what's the what?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," I replied, stroking Rufus. "I just had a bad morning, like I told Carlisle."

"Bullshit." Profanity sounded so foreign coming from Alice that my head snapped up in surprise. "You don't freak out over broken beakers. You don't freak out, period. Plus ... what are you wearing?"

"It's nothing. I told you. I'm f-f-f-fiiiiiiine."

Within seconds, Rufus was back in his terrarium and I was engulfed by my best friends.

"I know you adore that snake, but it seems you need a little people-style love," Jasper said, as he wrapped his arms around his wife and me.

After a few minutes of cuddling, they both pulled back and turned to face me, effectively hemming me in on the sofa.

"Talk, Bella," Alice commanded. "Something is wrong. You're dressed strangely, your hair is ... odd, and you lost it over one little broken beaker. What the heck is going on?"

"Don't you have to get back? And Jasper, you do have a job, yes?" I couldn't deal with their questions. All I wanted was to crawl back into bed and forget the day ever happened.

"No avoiding the question, Swan," Alice replied. "Carlisle told me to make sure you were settled and okay. My morning classes are all gone on the field trip for English Eleven, so I have lots of time to accomplish that goal."

"What about you? Don't you have an elsewhere to be?" I asked, turning to Jasper.

"Nope. Wherever my little butterbean asks me to be, that's where I belong. She called, and here I am."

Alice grinned over my head at her husband. "I thought we might need a male perspective, plus there was no way I could get you up those stairs if you got dizzy again."

"No more excuses, Swan." Jasper fixed me with his blue gaze. "Talk."

"I don't know what to say." I sighed. "I don't even know what's wrong. I've been all crazy lately. My face flushes at odd times, I've started stuttering, I've got this bizarre twisting feeling in my stomach, and this morning I woke up with the strangest desire to wear a dress and curl my hair. All I managed to do was make myself late and burned. I've researched rosacea, parasites, speech disorders, even lupus, but nothing fits. Now I have to add loss of emotional control to my list of symptoms." I pulled away and looked into Alice's face. "I'm really starting to get scared. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Her expression went from puzzled to amused, and I saw her gaze flick up to look at Jasper. He stood and shifted to the chair that faced the sofa.

"Bella, sweetie," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees and searching my face, "when is all this happening?"

"Um," I considered his question, searching for a pattern. "At school, mostly. First thing in the morning, later afternoon, and at lunch."

"Any other times?"

"Well ... it happened at Angela's a few weeks ago, and the other weekend when I was at dinner ..." I trailed off at the sight of Jasper's smirk. "What's that face for?"

Alice answered my question after exchanging a telling look with her husband. "Don't take this the wrong way, Bella, but what you're saying sounds like, well ... is all of this happening when you see Edward?"

"I suppose so, but I'm sure it doesn't have anything to do with him. We did have dinner a couple of weeks ago, but I've been showing symptoms since long before that. Do you think he could have given me something at school?"

"Bella, this may be hard for you to hear, but -" Alice paused and exchanged another glance with Jasper "-have you thought that maybe you are just reacting to him?"

"You mean, like I'm allergic to him or something? I haven't noticed any cologne or anything, but-"

"No, Bella. For someone so smart, you can be awfully clueless. I mean, you _like_ him."

"No way!" I sprang up from the sofa and began to pace. "I mean, he's so- but he's all- and he- but I- and he -"

I collapsed into the empty chair. "Oh, crap."

"This is going to be very interesting," said Jasper.

"Indeed," giggled Alice.

_In, out._

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Love it? Hate it? Want to shake Bella until she gets a clue? Review and let me know!

Thanks for reading!


	11. Convergent Evolution

Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Errors are entirely mine.

_~*~ pc ~*~_

_Convergent Evolution – The independent development of similar characteristics in unrelated species_

By the end of the day, I was certain of three things: my landlord had hired substandard painters before I moved in, the cracks in my ceiling needed to be repaired, and daytime television was solid proof of the impending fall of civilization.

"Rufus, you'll always love me, right?" He gazed at me for a moment through the glass of his terrarium before slithering down his climbing branch and into Edward's hide. "Et tu, Rufus?" I sighed. Even my snake was fed up with me. I resumed staring at my poorly painted walls until I was startled by a sharp knock at the door.

"I have Moo Goo Gai Pan, Bella! Let me in!" Alice's voice carried easily from the hallway into the apartment. I knew she would keep yelling until I let her in, so I dragged myself off the sofa and opened the door.

"Alright Bella, you've had the whole day to think things through. Now the real question is what are you going to do?" Alice's voice was amazingly chipper considering the long day she'd had. After taking me back home, she returned to school taught a half day, tutored, led a national honor society meeting, and then brought me dinner. The dinner was clearly a ruse to get in the door so she could torture me. She dropped a fragrant paper bag on the coffee table and disappeared into my kitchen, emerging a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Do? I am going to do nothing, just like I've been doing all year. Let it go, Alice."

I recognized that the probability of Alice actually letting this go was approximately the same as me reversing global warming with my ice maker, but I had to try. She had been in my house for two minutes and she was already driving me insane.

"You should totally ask him out." I wondered if I'd somehow lost my voice without realizing it.

"Alice, you aren't listening to me -"

"I bet he and Jazzy would get along great. We could totes double! I'm so excited for you-"

"Alice!"

"I've been hoping for this for so long-"

"Alice!"

"I knew if you just kept looking-"

"Alice!" I shouted. "Shut up!"

She fell silent for a moment before shooting me her best injured puppy look. "That was rude."

I sighed. "Alice, I'm sorry, but you aren't listening. There is nothing going on. There will be no double dates."

"But you and Edward-"

"No. There is me, and there is Edward, but there is no 'me and Edward.' Get over it."

"But Bellllllaaaaaa ..."

"Alice, whining is never attractive. You are a published scientist. Show some pride."

She sighed. "Fine. I'll shut up and leave you alone, if you will just answer one question."

"Fine," I huffed, mocking her. "Is it multiple choice?"

"Nope. Definitely free response." She giggled and leaned forward expectantly. "Are you ready?"

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Knock yourself out."

"Stop rolling your eyes, Bella. You'll hurt yourself."

"Ask your damn question, Alice Brandon."

"Yes ma'am. My question is this - why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you refuse to let anything happen with Edward? No, don't interrupt, just listen. You like him. He likes you. Despite first impressions, he's actually a pretty decent guy. He's smart, and surprisingly funny. He's even cute, in a sort of awkward, desperately needs a makeover kind of way. You have plenty to talk about. Why on Earth are you shutting the whole thing down before it even has a chance to get started?"

"I -" I took a deep breath and started again. "He won't -" The words wouldn't come. I shook my head and gave it a third shot. "We - I - I mean, he and - I don't know, Alice, all right? I don't know. It sounds good when you say it, but I just - I can't."

"Can't, or won't."

"You said there was only one question."

"Swan ..." She could be quite intimidating when she wanted to be.

"Does it really matter? Can't, won't, shouldn't, shan't - it all boils down to the same thing, doesn't it?"

"I shan't tell my aunt about the ants, nor the debutantes, shall I?" She replied, in a vaguely English accent. I stared at her, puzzled, as she rocked with peals of laughter.

"Sorry," she said finally after she calmed down. "You said shan't. I had a Hayley Mills moment. Anyway, what were you saying?"

"Nothing," I replied. "Nothing. It doesn't matter." I started to stand up, but she grabbed my arm and tugged me back down.

"Don't do that, Bella. Don't shut down. If you really don't want to talk about it, we won't, but don't push me away like this, and stop discounting your feelings. They are important. You're important. You lock yourself away with your work and your snake and you put on a big smile for the world, but I know you're lonely. Forget Edward. You had a full-out breakdown this morning. Please, please will you let me inside your head, just for a minute?"

I swear, I had cried more that day than in the previous ten years, and now the tears were starting again. "I just - I can't, Alice, okay? I can't. It's too late, I was too stupid, and it's - well, it's over. Done. The fat lady has sung, Elvis has left the building."

"Bella, what the heck are you talking about?"

I rolled my neck and thought about how I could explain my thoughts to her.

"First, there was our one and only date. It was terrible, Alice. So awkward we needed a new word to describe it. The food was pretentious and disgusting, we had nothing to talk about, and the play - after that night neither of us will ever look at horses the same way."

"Bad first date. Check. Not great, but not exactly the stuff of apocalypse. What else?"

"He ... he, um, well, I don't think he had a very good time either."

She looked at me speculatively. "What makes you say that?"

"He didn't talk much, and he hasn't asked me out again ..."

"Because you told him not to."

"Alice, this is not worth discussing," I huffed.

"Admit it, Bella. You told him not to ask you out again. You don't get to be upset about something you chose. Now tell me the real reason."

I let me head drop and focused on the fabric of the throw pillow on my lap. "I'm undateable," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I'm undateable, okay?" I threw the pillow onto the sofa and began to pace the room. "I'm too old, I'm too frumpy, and I have no social skills. This shouldn't surprise you; you've been with me on every date I've been on in the last two years. Let's take a moment to deal with the truth. I am destined to be on old crazy cat lady, except without the cats. I'll have snakes instead. I'm the crazy snake lady!"

"Are you done now?" Alice asked, bobbing her leg impatiently.

"No. Never mind that I'm a mess, he's not even interested. DId you happen to miss the way he was staring at that new girl, Tara or whatever? She's everything I'm not, and he was drooling over her like a poodle with ptyalism!"

I was so entangled in my rant that I was startled by Alice's giggle. I watched, stunned, as she escalated to chortles and then to guffaws. Soon she was gasping with hysterical laughter.

"I wish you'd share the joke, Chuckles. I could use a good laugh."

"Sorry, I-" she struggled to calm herself, wiping her eyes and taking deep breaths. "Is that what this was all about? You're jealous?"

"I am not."

She continued as if I hadn't spoken. "The weird dress, the half-done hair, the curling iron burns, all because of Tanya. Who would have guessed. Bella Swan is jealous."

"Fine, I'm jealous, are you happy. She's young, beautiful, and well put-together - all things I'll never be, and the one person who has been the tiniest bit interested in me in years was all gaga over her. Wouldn't you be jealous?"

"Sit down, Bella. There's some stuff you need to know." I glared at her, but did as she said. "First of all, I would like to call bullshit on everything you just said about yourself."

"But-"

"Nope." She held up her hand with her palm facing me. "Don't interrupt, or I will stab you with this chopstick. Everyone feels insecure sometimes, but if you really believe all that crap you said about being 'undateable' you need to re-examine the way you see yourself. More immediate though, is the issue of Tanya. There's a reason he was staring. He told me after the meeting that she looked familiar to him, but he couldn't figure out where he had met her. It was driving him nuts. He was staring because he was trying to figure it out, and with his limited social awareness, he didn't realize he was staring."

"But he - wait, what?"

Alice giggled. "You know that thing you do sometimes when you zone out while you are trying to think through something? Well, apparently he does it too. He didn't even realize the meeting was over until I poked him. He asked me if I knew her, because he was sure he had seen her before but couldn't remember where or how."

I huffed and flopped back onto the sofa cushions. "That doesn't mean he isn't interested in her."

"You're right, it doesn't." Alice leaned forward and looked into my face. "Maybe he likes her. Maybe he doesn't. But Bella, wouldn't you rather know, either way?"

"Maybe."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

Movement outside my classroom window pulled my attention away from the simple lab setup I was preparing for my Biology students. I was excellent at multi-tasking, and the activity was not at all complex, so I felt comfortable keeping watch.

Ms. Swan - Bella - had finally pulled into her parking spot, just visible from the window above my preparation area.

When Uncle Carlisle called to invite me into his school, I had limited expectations. After losing my last research position due to "interpersonal difficulties" - a factor that should play no part in hiring decisions in a professional setting - I had been at loose ends, and I was happy to take him up on his offer. The pay was abysmal, of course, the work far more challenging than I anticipated, and the subject matter elementary, but I found that I quite enjoyed some aspects of my new role. My colleagues were far more interesting and intelligent than I anticipated, the students could be entertaining at times, and across the hall was Ms. Isabella Swan.

I certainly did not expect her when I took this job. Romantic relationships had never been of particular importance to me, and I had no reason to believe that would change - until I met her. Although our initial encounters were somewhat difficult, as we continued to interact, I found myself increasingly intrigued by her. She was brilliant enough to participate in serious academia, yet she chose this profession, and clearly excelled at it. I found her tenacity fascinating. Even her anger increased my interest in her. I found myself wanting to know everything about her, and to share things about myself that I normally kept private, which is how I wound up on her couch, relating a story to which no one but the participants were privy.

Through the window, I watched her struggle to extract her possessions from the passenger side of her vehicle. She was wearing her normal attire of tan pants and a collared shirt, and her hair was pulled back from her face into a rather sloppy knot at the back of her head. While I found her quite attractive in the dress she had worn the day before, I appreciated the practicality of her everyday wardrobe. She was, in my opinion, the loveliest creature I had ever encountered.

I contemplated walking out to assist her with her bag, but frowned and hesitated as I remembered her reactions the previous day. She insisted otherwise, but my observations led me to conclude that I was the cause of her obvious discomfiture and subsequent emotional outburst. While I desperately craved her company, I did not wish to cause her further unrest.

She moved out of my line of sight and I attempted, with little success, to re-focus on my preparations for the day ahead. The outer door slammed, and I heard the jingling of keys that indicated she was entering her classroom.

"Doctor Masen? May I speak to you for a moment?"

The rush of phenylethylamine I experienced at the sound of her voice made my hands quiver, and I nearly spilled the liquid from my graduated cylinder I held.

I turned to see her standing in my doorway. Her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils indicated higher than normal levels of adrenaline production, and I felt my heart rate accelerate in response to the realization that Bella was either angry, nervous, or excited.

"Yes, of course, Ms. Swan. Please come in. How may I help you this morning?"

She entered the room and closed the door behind her. "I - well, I thought I should apologize for yesterday. My behavior was very unprofessional." She shifted her weight from one foot to another and gazed at the floor as she spoke.

"Please, Ms. Swan, there is no need to apologize. In fact -" I inhaled deeply and swallowed before I could continue,"- I fear that perhaps the fault is mine."

She shifted again and looked up at me. Her facial expression was distressed, and I wanted nothing more than to find a way to soothe her. While my preference was to embrace her, if staying away from her could accomplish that goal, I would willingly make the sacrifice.

"Ms. Swan, my observations of your actions over the past several days have lead me to the conclusion that my presence in your life is causing you distress. I clearly make you uncomfortable, therefore I will refrain from disturbing you in the future." With tremendous effort, I turned to walk away from her.

"Doctor - Edward - wait." I turned to see her eyes filled with tears. "That's not why I came to talk to you. I actually ..." she trailed off and inhaled slowly. "I was wondering if, maybe, you would like to, I don't know ... maybe we could go see a movie or have dinner or something?" The speed of both her speech and her fidgeting increased as she spoke, until her final words were almost slurred.

A grin spread across my face as phenylethylamine and vasopressin filled me with euphoria. The flood of neurotransmitters brought with them a surge of courage, and I stepped forward until I was within inches of her beautiful, nervous face.

"Bella, I would be delighted to spend some additional time with you." I grasped her delicate hand in mine and lifted it. She gasped as I pressed my lips to her skin. "In whatever activity you might choose."

_~*~ pc ~*~_

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